


The Weaver's Guild

by Bargests



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, BDSM, Basically modern Zadash, M/M, Masturbation, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-05-08 18:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bargests/pseuds/Bargests
Summary: The tiefling beamed and extended a taloned hand. “Mollymauk. Mollymauk Tealeaf.”Caleb awkwardly extended his own hand, and shook the tiefling's. “Caleb Widogast.”The tiefling kept his hold on Caleb's hand and smiled further.“What a lovely name. Caleb Widogast . You're under arrest.”Caleb does illegal enchanting work to keep himself alive, and pay his and Nott's bills. But after a handsome tiefling visits his shop, he realises he has not been careful enough, and the Weaver's Guild are paying a visit...





	1. Chapter One

When he dreams at night, it is of fire. An all consuming heat is around him, and it is to this that he always returns, breath haggard with rushing breaths, not from exertion, but from blind horror and panic and – some nights, at this point Nott is there and he is pulled back into the waking world, frightened and shaken, but okay. Tonight is not one of those nights.

 

Tonight he is drawn deeper and soon he is aware of the scent of smoke – burning wood and brick and flesh – his stomach ties itself in knots and the nausea comes in a wave that threatens to pull him under. He is so sure he can feel the heat on his skin as he listens to the screams, begging him to help, begging him to pull the barricade away, until they turn to screeches condemning him, confronting him for what he has done. _Your fault. Your fault. Your fault._ Each time the thought pulses through him it is like the heartbeat of some giant beast, an accuser whose sickly breath breezes through his mind like wind, bearing the cinders of what was once his family home. _Your fault. Your fault. Your f-_

 

“Caleb, you need to wake up!”

 

He is snapped into the waking world by a tiny hand slapping him across the face, hard, and for a moment he is filled with a blind fear and panic and comes awake fighting, only to see the familiar, sharp toothed face of his friend, Nott, who is looking at him with an expression filled with worry and her own fear and anxiety, and Caleb feels a pang of guilt that he has caused her to worry.

 

“I am sorry, _meine liebling_ , it was just a bad dream.”

 

“The same dream,” Nott said, trailing off nervously. He could see she was getting the shakes again, and suddenly rued that he had not seen to it that there was something in the house for his Goblin companion. It meant no time to rest this morning, but that he would need to find work and give her the little he already had to stave off the worst of the withdrawal.

 

“I will be fine. You, however, are not.”

 

He sat up in his bed, and wearily reached for his battered wallet on the side table in his tiny little apartment, made up of a bedroom, a bathroom, and a living area, shared with his friend and a scruffy tabby cat. He pulled out the sole gold piece within it and forced in into her palm, giving her a stern look.

 

“Go buy what you need from Pumat's. I will get dressed and find some work. No stealing,” he added sternly, before smiling at his smaller friend. “Be careful.”

 

Nott nodded uncertainly, but scampered off nonetheless. At the door she paused.

 

“Be careful in the Undermarket, Caleb.”

 

No shower this morning. He could afford neither soap nor water, never mind the cost of making the water hot enough to be enjoyable. He did however pull a comb through his hair to neaten it as best he could, and after emptying a tin of at food onto a saucer for his cat, Frumpkin, he was out of the door and on his way to the Pentamarket.

 

The Pentamarket was known in the city for being where the magic users of the city plied their trade, away from the big brands and noise of cars on the main city streets of Zadash. The Pentamarket was old, still a pedestrian zone, and it was where he was always guaranteed to find work enchanting items illegally.

 

Enchantment had been placed under strict controls by the government after many years of mishaps, and it was something Caleb was good at, but he could not afford the licensing fees. So he plied his trade in the Undermarket, a series of small underground alleyways where people tended to slip through unnoticed, and it was perfect if you wanted to do things that weren't necessarily legal. It was a warren of tunnels, with many hidden entrances that could only be found if you knew exactly where to look, and Caleb was well practised. He was soon back in the little nook he used as a little shop, and it wasn't long before he had his first customer. The Undermarket was not a busy place, but there was palpable life, and several hours later, having made a tidy sum of gold, Caleb was about to pack up when he felt a presence behind him.

 

Turning, he saw the pair that had entered his little alcove, one, a lavender tiefling, was looking at him with a pleasant smile, and the second, a dark red tiefling with black hair, leaned nearer the entrance, playing with a phone.

 

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Caleb asked, weakly returning the smile of the lavender tiefling. The red one ignored him, and continued tapping away, but the lavender smiled further and extended a bejewelled hand.

 

“Certainly!”

 

Caleb barely contained a wince at the Irish twang that twisted through that word. He was a fan of the accent, and it did not help that the tiefling was quite handsome.

 

“We're looking for someone who could enchant this.” The tiefling pulled a ring from his pocket, and handed it to the vaguely grubby human, who looked over it. The ring was a heavy, but simply designed golden ring, with no adornments or decoration.

 

“ _Ja,_ I can do zat. What is it that you need?”

 

He looked up from the ring and found that the tiefling had stepped closer, and it was with blood red eyes that his own locked. He coughed slightly, to hide the discomfort he suddenly felt, and looked away, watching the second, unmoving tiefling, who continued to text.

 

“Just a simple enchantment, really. I'd like a very simple one to detect magic. It doesn't have to be anything particularly fancy.”

 

Caleb thought about it for a minute, turning the ring over in his hands. “Ja. I can do zat. One moment, if you please.”

 

Caleb took the ring over to the bench, and laid it flat. This would be his last of the day, and had it been anything bigger, he would have had to do it tomorrow. He laid his hands out flat, and muttering quietly, he wove the spell around the ring. A few minutes passed, and he was done. He picked the ring up, and it had grown hot, picking up the magical residue in the air around , and he passed it to the lavender tiefling, who beamed, flashing pointed teeth, and put it on, admiring it. He flashed it over at the big red tiefling, who snorted and seemed to roll his golden eyes.

 

“Pure perfection! What do I owe you?”

 

Caleb thought for a minute, and decided he liked the tiefling.

  
“Five gold pieces.”

 

The other man beamed. “Done.” He dropped them into Caleb's waiting hand, and the human pocketed them, suddenly incredibly tired. The two tieflings took their leave quickly, and he realised he had not heard either of them mention a name. No matter. He would not ask and he was reasonably sure they would not tell. There was no good reason for anyone to request that sort of enchantment normally, which usually meant they were up to something, and he wanted left out of it.

 

He left the Undermarket in the late afternoon, swung by his landlord's offices and paid his rent, and then visited Pumat's. One of Pumat's assistants served him, and he bought enough cat food, alcohol and food to last himself, Nott and Frumpkin for a few days. He did not want to return to the Undermarket for a while, if he could help it.

 

He put down the shopping bag, and smiled as Frumpkin wrapped himself around his legs, purring. He picked the scruffy tabby up like a baby, cradling him in his arms, and pressed a kiss to the top of the cat's head, absent-mindedly stroking the cat's belly. He wandered over to the corner of the room that was sequestered with curtains; the little “bedroom” that Nott claimed for her own. She was passed out, an almost empty, large bottle of vodka still clasped in her hand, and an empty one lay on the bed next to her. Caleb reached over gently and lifted away the empty bottle, allowing the cat to drop onto the bed in a lazy jump, and Frumpkin curled against Nott with a purr. He quietly pulled a blanket over her, then stepped out of her little corner, closing the curtains behind him.

 

Quiet was the call of the rest of the day. He had hoped Nott would be awake when he got home, as he still needed calming from the nightmares that had pulled him awake, and in the Undermarket, he had not had time to do so. He slipped into his room and curled up on his misshapen mattress, grabbing a book from the pile next to his bed. He had read it before, and remembered every word if it, but sometimes, repeating things he had done before became a balm, a comfort against the horrors of his dreams and the stress of plying a risky trade in a risky part of town. He sank into the book and read, and did not notice when, many hours later, he read the same sentence over and over again, before finally falling asleep. He did not notice when Nott slipped in, gently pulled the book from his hand, his glasses from his face, and pulled his blanket up, turning off the lamp on her way out.

 

 

Morning was slow to come. He woke in a rumpled pile, still dressed in his clothes and wrapped loosely in his blanket. His door was closed, but Frumpkin lay curled at his feet in a shaft of sunlight that filtered between his curtains and onto his bed. He stretched, luxuriating in the warmth of his bed. He lay only a little longer, before pulling himself up and stumbling into the bathroom for a shower, at long last.

 

He emerged from the bathroom with a happy sigh, and dropped onto his couch next to Nott, who squatted, watching _Judge Jodiaha_ and eating a bowl of cereal. She flashed him a milky grin and kept eating, and Caleb stretched out a bit.

 

“Going anywhere today, Caleb?” She asked, slurping more _Marshmallow Mystics_ from her spoon.

 

“ _Nein_ ,” he breathed, stretching to look at her from the corner of an eye. “We will be okay. I will go back tomorrow and do a little more, and that will let me go to the book store.”

 

Nott grinned. Caleb rose and got himself a bowl of cereal, and that was all the did that day, he and his goblin friend. They say and watched bad TV, ate bad, but delicious junk food and then retired to their respective rooms, happy.

 

 

The next morning, he woke early, startled awake by the return of dreams. He tried to push them from his mind, showering, dressing quickly and then darting out the door, briskly walking to the Undermarket.

 

He was distracted today, and his dreams from last night weighed heavily on his mind as he slipped through the entrance to the Undermarket, a small doorway behind an ancient temple that now served as a tourist trap, replaced many years ago by a much more grand temple on the city's outskirts. As he slipped down through the tunnels, he didn't register that it was much quieter than usual, and soon slipped into his usual spot in one of the darker tunnels that was lit only sparsely by the light filtering down through a storm port above. When it rained, you wouldn't find anyone using the Undermarket, but when the weather was good, anyone could find what they needed.

 

It was an hour after he arrived before he heard the sound of an approach. He kept himself pressed back into his hollow, in case it was something unsavoury, but soon had a burst of hope fill his chest as the boots stopped at the end of his hollow. From what he could make out of them in the dull shadow that pooled there in that part of the hallway, it was a pair of tieflings, one with bejewelled, curling horns, and a second, larger one with horns that swept back from his brow in a way that reminded Caleb of the dragon skull that stood in the Zadash Museum of Natural History, on loan from its sister Museum in Vasselheim, in far off Tal'Dorei.

 

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” he called nervously, noting that the pair seemed to be dressed identically. Normally this would have sent alarm bells off for him, but today was not a normal day.

 

The pair stepped forward, and he recognised the one with the curled horns as the handsome Lavender tiefling from two days before, but the other was not the same tiefling as previous, but looked similar enough to give Caleb the thought that they may be related.

 

“Yes! You're the lovely young enchanter who helped me yesterday!” The man beamed, and Caleb looked past him, avoiding eye contact. The second tiefling loomed behind him, looking vaguely bored.

 

“Oh yes. You're the person I helped with the ring, yes?”

 

The tiefling beamed and extended a taloned hand. “Mollymauk. Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

 

Caleb awkwardly extended his own hand, and shook the tiefling's. “Caleb Widogast.”

 

The tiefling kept his hold on Caleb's hand and smiled further.

 

“What a lovely name. Caleb Widogast . You're under arrest.”

 


	2. Chapter Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb does illegal enchanting work fr money to live. When he meets a certain lavender tiefling, he knows things are going to change, in big ways....

Caleb tried to pull back, panicked, but the tiefling tightened his grip.

 

“Don't try to flee, darling. I don't want Grief here to get involved more than he has to.” Mollymauk posed it as a statement, and Caleb flashed a glance to the huge tiefling. He stepped forwards, more into the light that filtered in, and he could see the giant eye that adorned the armour on his chest. _A Paladin._ Of course.

 

“Why?” It was all he could think to ask. He was terrified, not just for himself but Nott and Frumpkin and – _who was going to look after Nott?_ He could feel himself tearing up, and furiously tried to swallow back the tears.

 

“Illegal enchanting.” The tiefling's voice was apologetic, and Caleb could feel bile rising in his throat. He could do nothing to stop them as they put the suppression bracelets on his wrists to stop him from casting, and each out a hand on his shoulder as they guided him out of the depths.

 

Out of the Pentamarket, on a car park a little way away, they approached a large black sedan, and Caleb was pushed into it. In the driver's seat sat the tiefling who had been there when Caleb had enchanted the ring for them, drumming uncomfortably on the steering wheel. His golden eyes met Caleb's in the rear view mirror, and he felt something akin to pity in them.

 

“Put some music on, Pan. Don't want to travel in silence.” Grief had a deep, gravelly voice, and it was the first noise Caleb had heard him make. The jittery tiefling nodded and pressed a button on the car's console, allowing rock music Caleb didn't recognise to fill the car. The car pulled away, and he found himself focusing on the floor, knee shaking as he willed himself not to be sick. He was in enough trouble, he didn't need to add throwing up in a government vehicle to the list of things.

 

“Don't worry, Widogast,” Mollymauk said with a friendly clap on his shoulder. “Our boss wants to make you an offer. It's only a ring and you didn't make it lethal or anything. She might let you off.”

 

Caleb nodded dumbly. His mouth was dry, and he didn't trust himself to speak. A beat was pounding in his head. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ He had been far too careless. Now he had possibly fucked things up for Nott and Frumpkin too.

 

After about half an hour of traffic, they left the city, driving for another 15 minutes before they reached the massive complex owned by The Guild of Weavers, the watchdog that managed magic use, enchanting, alchemy and international cooperation between magic users. It was a sprawling complex, with official buildings galore, and several large blocks of apartments that essentially gave the area the air of a town in its own rights. They pulled to the gates, and the massive bald Goliath woman covered in tattoos checked their ID before waving them through. They pulled up in front of the old castle, which looked positively ancient compared to the modern buildings surrounding it. Caleb was led from the car, and they went up into the building.

 

Inside the castle was futuristic, compared to its exterior. Everything was sleek, white and brightly lit, not clinical, but aggressively clean. He was taken upstairs by the trio of tieflings, noting that the one who had driven was nervously clicking a pen that he had drawn from his pocket. He looked uncomfortable, and Caleb couldn't help but feel another sickening wave of anxiety. They stopped outside of a pair of large, frosted glass doors, and Grief went to speak to the secretary, who nodded, pressed a button atop the desk, and gestured for everyone to sit. Caleb was pulled into a seat next to Mollymauk, who flashed him an easy smile. The only place he could see the symbol of the eye upon him was woven into his tattoos. The same could be said for the smaller, nervous tiefling, who had a massive tattoo of an eye on his next. He could see others wearing the symbol in innocuous ways, and felt sick with nerves.

 

Eventually, a light on the desk flashed, and the Dragonborn secretary looked up at them. “Madam Vostra will see you now.”

 

They all rose and approached the door, and Mollymauk flashed a wink at the woman, who rolled her eyes and turned back to her work. They went through the frosted glass doors and found themselves in what was once a banqueting hall, the walls lined with ancient shields on either side, leading up to a large mahogany desk, behind which, sat a tall, imposing elven woman. It was hard to place her age – she could have been ancient or she could have been 20. Her eyes were downturned, reading a scroll she clasped in her dark, elegant fingers. Her curly black hair was swept up atop her head, and she had strong, aquiline features and deep red-painted lips. As they got closer, she flicked her eyes upwards to fix them with an icy stare, and Caleb got a look at her eyes properly. Her almond shaped eyes were the colour of milk – the woman was clearly totally blind. She cocked her head to the side, and then rose, coming around her desk.

 

“If my ears do not deceive me, I believe I have Mollymauk, Pandemonium, Grief and our guest?”

 

“Yes Ma'am.” Said Grief, coming to a halt and resting his hand on Caleb's shoulder.

 

“His name is Caleb Widogast, Madam Vostra.” Mollymauk supplied, coming to stand next to Caleb. He could not see where the third tiefling was, and supposed he must be behind him, hanging back in case he tried something.

 

“Mister Widogast,” the woman smiled, stepping forwards and extending a hand. “So lovely to meet you.”

 

He shook her hand warily, making the bracelets strapped around his wrists jingle. She sighed. “Grief, please remove those ridiculous bracelets you've clapped on him. He's my guest, not my prisoner.”

 

The big tiefling gaped. “But Madam Vos-”

 

“Are you suggesting I cannot handle myself against a young Wizard, Grief?”

 

“No Ma'am, but-”

 

“But what?”

 

He struggled for a moment, and then his shoulders slumped. “Nothing, Ma'am.”

 

“Good boy”.

 

Grief removed the bracelets from him, grumbling, and the elven woman approached. She walked around Caleb in a slow circle, her milky eyes fixed upon him the whole time. Despite her blindness, he did get the distinct impression that this elf was giving a him a definite look over. She leaned in whilst behind him, and he stiffened when he heard her sniff.

 

“He'll do.” She swept back behind her desk and sat. Fixing him with that curious stare.

 

“Mister Widogast, I've had you brought here for a reason. It is not because you have been carrying out illegal enchanting – the works you have produced have never been lethal, and have never been backfired. All have been excellent pieces of craftsmanship that I am willing to overlook.”

 

He sagged with relief. She smiled wickedly.

 

“For a price.”

 

He swallowed, gripped by fear once more. “A price, Madam?”

 

She nodded.

 

“You are a skilled Wizard, of that I have no doubt. I believe you could be a wonderful asset to our team. Mollymauk here spoke on your behalf, testified to your skill as an Enchanter.”

 

He flashed a glance to his left at the tiefling, who was examining his nails with a smile.

 

“I would like to offer you a job here. You and your family, if you have one. I have need of Enchanters, and if you're desperate enough to be working in the Undermarket, you have need of regular payment. It would be the same job, better pay, and more regular than your current work. You would not be harming anyone, unless you asked to do field work. We need enchantments to detect magic, aid in healing, protect from harm.... All things I'm told you're very good at.”

 

He thought about it. He thought as long as he dared. The money would be good. As would having a permanent roof in one of the apartments here, and he would not have to worry about rent or food or... Or worry about making sure Nott had her fix. He would be able to buy in as much as she needed. He was not exactly happy to be getting into bed with a part of the government, an entity he had problems with aspects of, given his past, but to have so much less to worry about was sorely tempting.

 

“What if I refuse?” He asked, quietly but firmly. The woman shrugged.

 

“We let you go. But if you're caught in the Undermarket again, we would push for prosecution.”

 

He thought about it for a moment. He couldn't risk the lack of money. He couldn't risk putting either her or Frumpkin in danger. He shifted uncomfortably.

 

“I'll do it.”

 

 

 

He was led from the room by Mollymauk and Pandemonium, who both seemed much more relaxed now that he'd agreed. Mollymauk had not stopped jabbering excitedly to him since he had agreed to take the position and had signed the documents with Madam Vostra.

 

“You and your family can take the last two rooms in me and Pan's block. How many of you are there? We can fit you all in, I'll make sure of it darlin'.”

 

Caleb smiled nervously at Pan, who mouthed _Sorry_ at him across Mollymauk, who stood between them.

  
“There are three of us. Myself, my friend Nott, who is a Goblin, and my cat, Frumpkin.”

 

“A cat? No point in asking Fjord to help us move you then. He's allergic, but I just think he's frightened of the little things. Yasha'll have to come. She won't mind.”

 

Caleb was feeling the anxiety take hold. “But I need to tell my landlord I-”

 

“Fuck 'im.” Mollymauk said it completely nonchalantly, with a wry twitch of the mouth.

 

“Where do you live, Caleb?” The red tiefling asked quietly, his voice soft as a whisper.

 

“In the apartments above the Leaky Tap. I rent from the man who owns the building.”

 

“That _dive_?!”

 

Mollymauk had stopped in his tracks.

 

“We're moving you. Pan, call Yasha, and tell her to bring the van. You can go get some more keys cut while we help this one get shot of that hole.”

 

The tiefling nodded and left, peeling off to one side. Caleb followed in Mollymauk's footsteps until they stood outside the building waiting for... something.

 

“What are we doing, Mollymauk?” He asked,uncomfortable with the looks he was garnering from the comings and goings of Weavers in and out of the building.

 

“We just need to wait for Yasha. I'm not having you live in that dump any longer. Or your friends, for that matter.”

 

Caleb felt rather swept along, caught in the path of the hurricane-in-flesh-form that had wandered into his life. He did not particularly want to move – but for Nott and Frumpkin he would do anything. And if he could make something that would help people, that could perhaps atone for the sins of his past. A large van pulled up in front of them, driven by a huge woman with dark eyes, black hair that faded into white tips and dressed in dark clothing. Mollymauk opened the door, and bowed, gesturing for Caleb to get in. He flushed hot across the back of his neck, but climbed in all the same, resolving to ignore the tiefling's antics as best he could.

 

“This is Yasha, she lives here too sometimes, when she bothers showing up!”

 

The woman rolled her eyes, and remained quiet.

 

“We're heading for that crap dive bar, the Leaky Tap? This un's renting a place above it. We're gonna pack him, his pal and cat up sharpish and get them back to mine. They can have mine and Pan's last two rooms.”

 

The woman nodded, and they spent the first part of the drive in silence, until Mollymauk grumbled and turned the radio on, switching quickly to an 80s station and singing along loudly to every single song. After about an hour's travel (owing to Zadash's heavy evening traffic) they pulled up outside Caleb's (old) apartment, Yasha and Molly climbing out and looking up at the grimy old building. Wordlessly, he led them to the rickety lift, and the three travelled up to his floor. As soon as he opened the door and entered, he was greeted by the sounds of the TV, and he could see Nott, sat with Frumpkin, watching TV and eating cereal. Occasionally, while Nott was distracted, Frumpkin would shove his head into the bowl and lap at the milk, and Caleb winced.

 

“Nott, don't let the cat drink your cereal milk. It's full of sugar!”

 

Nott turned to grin at Caleb, but her smile faded when she saw the strangers, and Frumpkin began to puff up, the small tabby's tail bushing up like a Christmas tree.

 

“Do not worry, _liebling_. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating now because I'm going to my homecountry for a week. It'll be more regular after this. :>


	3. Chapter Three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nasty piece of work, if you ask me, but damned good fighter. Doesn't like me either, to be fair, but I have fucked both his brother and his sister-”
> 
>  
> 
> Caleb choked on his spoon.
> 
>  
> 
> “Excuse me?”
> 
>  
> 
> Molly grinned . “Sorry, shouldn't have sprung that on you. We're not an item, we just sleep together sometimes. Nothing serious.”
> 
>  
> 
> Caleb glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
> 
>  
> 
> “And it wasn't at the same time. We're not degenerates."

Nott took the news well, and admittedly, was eager to live somewhere that promised its own room for her rather than her curtained off portion of the apartment. It had not taken her long to bundle her few belongings into a box that Yasha brought up for her from the van. They pushed as much as they could into the boxes, and loaded them almost wordlessly. Once the van was filled, Caleb surveyed what had been his apartment and thought ruefully about how he had just paid rent. A lot of his books had not quite made it into boxes or the van, and Mollymauk grinned as he clapped him on his shoulder.

 

“Well, at least _some_ of your collection has made it in for now. We'll be able to come back and get the rest another time. The furniture yours too?”

 

Caleb shook his head. “Nein, apart from the bookcases. “

 

Mollymauk made a face. “We'll grab Fjord's toolkit next time so we can dismantle them. What about your cat?”

 

They both looked over to Caleb's threadbare couch, where Yasha had taken a seat. Frumpkin sprawled in her lap, doing his best work, purring and snuggling into her hands. The huge woman seemed emotionless, petting the purring cat gently, but Molly saw the start of a smile spreading at the corners of her lips when Frumpkin chirped at her.

 

“I don't have a travel cage for him, if that is what you mean. He is however, not a.... 'real' cat if you will.”

 

Molly arched a single, well groomed eyebrow.

 

“A familiar?”

 

Caleb nodded and quirked his lips in a quick, weak smile.

 

“Yes.”

 

He snapped his fingers and Frumpkin disappeared from Yasha's lap and reappeared around Caleb's shoulders. The lavender tiefling grinned and Caleb glanced away. His smile really was glorious. They gathered Caleb's groceries into bags on the way out, and Caleb sent Frumpkin to his pocket dimension so the poor cat would not have to squash into the front of the van with the rest of them. Luckily, the evening traffic was petering out and they were able to quickly return to the complex. They were greeted in a parking complex by the tiefling from earlier, the one that Caleb and Nott would be sharing an apartment alongside Mollymauk with. Molly grinned and punched him gently on the shoulder.

 

“Come to show off your tricks?”

 

Pandemonium rubbed the back of his own neck awkwardly. “I guess? I mean, I was just gonna make it so you could spend more time showing them around and less time moving this stuff.”

 

“I'm only teasing. Want the doors open?”

 

The red tiefling nodded, and Yasha and Molly opened all of the doors of the van. As soon as they were done, Molly grabbed Nott and Caleb and pulled them back, away from the van, grinning and flashing his sharp teeth the whole time.

 

“Watch this. It's cool as fuck.”

 

Pandemonium stepped forward and made a sweeping motion over his shoulder. A cumbersome blade appeared in his hand, and massively wide sword with two hilts. He levelled it at Caleb's boxes and closed his eyes for a moment. Slowly, a glow began to form around the boxes , a dull purple light that surrounded the whole pile. A moment passed, there was a crackle and the air filled with the scent of almonds. A brief flicker of purple light followed, and the boxes vanished with a snap.

 

Caleb stepped forwards, shocked and slightly anxious. Pandemonium sagged, dropped the sword and it vanished again. His nose was bleeding slightly, and his shoulders shook. Molly crowed, then ran forwards to his room mate.

 

“Cool as usual, Pan. They in his room?”

 

The red tiefling nodded shakily, and dragged his hand across his nose, mopping up the blood.

 

“How did you do that?” Caleb asked, his voice hushed in shock at what he had seen, but relieved that the boxes were merely where they needed to be.

 

“I'm a Hexblade,” the tiefling replied quietly. “My blade allows me to teleport inert matter quite a distance. Wouldn't do it with people. He's... Not the most personable patron.”

 

He wanted to know more about the capabilities of the blade – he had spent many years studying conjuration and transmutation – and it clearly had some of the elements he had studied connected to it. He did not however, decide to push the question. At this moment, the tiefling looked absolutely exhausted from just that.

 

“If you don't mind me asking, if it has caused you harm to do so, why have you deigned to help us by... moving boxes of all things?”

 

The tiefling sighed.

 

“Have to use the blade or it'll choose a new warlock to bond with. And with this blade I'd rather not risk that.”

 

He started to walk off towards the stairway, and feeling bemused, Caleb and Nott followed.

 

 

 

Molly jabbered away to them all the way to their new home, pointing out various points of interest in the residential area. It truly was like a small town, with its own taverns, shops, bath houses and cinemas. It was almost too good to be true. They stopped at a small park that Molly wanted to show them around, and Yasha and Pandemonium took Nott off to the nearby tavern to get a drink. Molly insisted on buying gelato from a small stand ran by a halfling family, and they took up seats on a bench overlooking a long, artificial pond filled with ducks. They sat there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the slowly descending sunshine and their gelato (hazelnut for Caleb, a bright blue bubblegum for Molly). Caleb decided to break the silence.

 

“So how did you and your other room mate meet, Mollymauk?”

 

The tiefling chuckled. “Please, just call me Molly.”

 

He stretched and sighed.

 

“Pandemonium came here shortly after I did, about two years ago. He had recently bonded with a blade of unknown provenance, and hadn't spoke since. I had made friends with Yasha already, and we... Well we felt sorry for him the more we found out. Kid's from the Pelaois family, who are pretty much.... They're pretty much royalty in the Nine Hells. Their mother is a powerful human Warlock who married her patron, their father, Pelaois. He's a ruler in the Nine Hells, and incredibly powerful. Kid's got a lot of siblings, a couple of them here on this plain, most of them serving in the Nine Hells. You've met his brother, Grief?”

 

Caleb nodded grimly. Grief was the enormous, blood red tiefling Paladin that had been there when Mollymauk had arrested him.

 

“He's functionally Pelaois' heir. Nasty piece of work, if you ask me, but damned good fighter. Doesn't like me either, to be fair, but I _have_ fucked both his brother and his sister-”

 

Caleb choked on his spoon.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Molly grinned . “Sorry, shouldn't have sprung that on you. We're not an item, we just sleep together sometimes. Nothing serious.”

 

Caleb glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

 

“And it wasn't at the same time. We're not degenerates. You'll meet their sister tomorrow, I've been instructed to show you around the enchanter's labs tomorrow morning, and in the afternoon you have a combat appraisal, unfortunately.”

 

Caleb felt panic bubble in his throat at the mention of combat. Molly seemed to pick up on it, and pulled him in close, concern etched all over his angular features.

 

“Hey now, it won't be so bad. It's just to evaluate your abilities, everyone goes through one. As her ladyship said – she has need of enchanters. Us combat boyos are a dime a dozen.”

 

He relaxed slightly into the embrace, but stiffened slightly. Mollymauk smelt _amazing_. Like good mulled wine, there was an edge of spice, of cinnamon and clove and – maybe star anise? There was an undertone of sweetness, of strawberries ripening in the sun, and the scent sent a jolt of pure heat flooding through him that pooled in his lap and made his cock twitch. He pulled away abruptly, starting to flush. Molly was definitely his type, but he couldn't allow it – the man was already in bed with one of the other men in the house and Caleb was not a fan of adding to drama.

 

“You okay there?”

 

“Ja,” he breathed, glancing away to look over the pond. Although he could not see the tiefling, he knew those glowing red eyes were fixed upon him, boring a hole in the back of his head in their intensity. “Should we move on now, yes?”

 

 

The apartment was on the 13th floor of an apartment block that overlooked the whole pseudo-town, and from it, Caleb supposed, he would have a view of the pond and the park if they were on the right side of it. They entered the lift wordlessly, both lapsing into a silence that seemed almost practiced, as they were comfortable with one another. They got off, and Molly led him to a door that looked as if he was in luck, and a room here might have a good view of the park. They entered, and he was relieved to see that his boxes were neatly piled in the centre of their lounge. Molly sighed.

 

“He could have put them in your room, at least.”

 

He stalked over to the kitchen and rummaged through a drawer as Caleb explored the apartment. It was a good size, with a large open plan living space. There was a small living room area made up of mismatched couches covered in various blankets, throws and cushions all pointed at a huge TV. The coffee table in the centre was covered in beer bottles still – remnants of a shared night. Nott would get on well with these people. He snapped his fingers and Frumpkin appeared in the room. He left the cat to explore its new surroundings as he looked around more.

 

The kitchen Molly was in was a good sized kitchen, the appliances lined along the wall with the majority of the counters. In lieu of a shared table, they had a kitchen island, a long bar surface with various mismatched stools pulled up to it, and a shabby vase with plastic flowers in the centre. To one side, between two doors (one closed with a poster of a rock band Caleb vaguely recognised on the outside of it, the other open, and peering into a room that Caleb could only describe as a 'boudoir' from first glance (“My room,” Mollymauk had chuckled as he continued rifling through the drawers), the bathroom lay, a good sized room that was surprisingly well appointed, with a huge bathtub that could easily fit two people, a smart, gleaming shower and a good sized mirror. It looked clean, and there were large amounts of toiletries littering the surfaces within.

 

Mollymauk made a pleased noise and Caleb turned to look at him. He had pulled two keys from the drawer and set one down, approaching Caleb and grabbing him by the arm.

 

“We'll give you the bigger of the rooms we have left. You're much bigger than Nott and have an absolutely ridiculous amount of books – you'll need the space for the shelves.”

 

He unlocked the corner door on the opposite side of the living room, and Caleb's breath caught in his throat as he entered. The room was huge – easily the same floor size as his entire apartment had been before, with a massive window overlooking the park, just as he had hoped. Around the window, along that wall, someone had already built a bookcase that spanned the width of the room, with one part of it clearly being a built in wardrobe where he could put what little clothing he had. Where the window was had been left uncovered, but with two shutters that he could pull across it at night, and at the bottom was a padded bench, that with a few pillows, he thought, would be an excellent place to curl up with Frumpkin and read. Against the wall, next to the door and facing the window was a bare double bed, no bedding on it, but clean and ready to use, and, Caleb noted, without springs that clearly threatened to poke through. He felt like crying.

 

Molly reappeared with a box that had been given over to his groceries, and smiled ruefully.

 

“Your milk might not be okay, but the rest is.”

 

He pointed out a small cupboard built in beneath the bookshelves.

 

“That's a hidden fridge. Last guy who had the room built it in himself.”

 

He placed the box on his bed, and stepped back awkwardly, suddenly unsure of what to say. He clapped Caleb on the shoulder.

 

“Well. I guess I'll leave you to settle your stuff in. Here... Your keys.”

 

Caleb took them wordlessly. He didn't know how to put it in words, he had too much to say thank you for. He put it simply.

 

“Thank you, Mollymauk.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, but I wanted to update with something.
> 
> Also I'm sorry I don't reply to comments, I read all of them and love them I'm just a nervous person


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well. Earned that E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be penises. (penii?)

He spent the rest of the day unpacking his stuff. He set up Nott's belongings for her, which consisted mostly of shiny things and bottles of alcohol. He had just about thrown a bed together for her when the door opened and a blue tiefling stepped in carrying her, and set her down upon her bed.

 

“Hello!” The new tiefling beamed. Behind her, Caleb could see a half-orc, a human woman and Pandemonium, all of whom looked decidedly drunk. Behind them all stood Yasha, who was supporting the human woman and looking almost entirely sober.

 

“I hope this is her room. She's very fun, my mother would like her a lot.”

 

The blue one was very loud. The half-orc and Pandemonium seemed to be engaged in a quiet, but hotly raging argument. The human was making doe eyes at Yasha, who seemed to have not noticed. Mollymauk strode through the centre of the group, and clapped an arm around the tiefling.

 

“Jester! So glad you're here. And I see you brought Fjord and Beau!”

 

The pretty tiefling lifted Molly in a bone-creaking hug. She was ripped.

 

“I brought Beau, but Fjord mostly came so he could keep arguing with Pan over whose patron is cooler.”

 

She leaned towards Caleb. “Personally I think it's Fjord's, but don't tell him I said that.”

 

Her whisper had almost certainly been heard by everyone. Yasha sighed as Beau started dozing off against her, and hefted the human into her arms. “I'll take this one home.” With that she left, carrying the snoring woman with her. Jester latched on to Fjord's arm.

 

“Fjord! Let's go! My mother is performing in the Trispires and I would like you to accompany me.”

 

Caleb was impressed. He had never heard someone manage to verbalise a sentence in such a way that you knew that there had been a heart emoji at the end. The half-orc instantly pulled away from Pan, who shrugged and stomped off to his room. The door shut and Caleb only caught the briefest of glimpses into the inside – dark walls, lots of posters, neon lights. The strangers left, and Caleb stood silent for a moment, his brain trying to process what had just happened. Molly draped an arm around him.

 

“Those are my friends and members of the unit I'm in. The tiefling was Jester, the human was Beau, and the half-orc Fjord. They're not normally so rude, but they've been drinking. You'll see them better tomorrow night, I've invited them for a small get together so you can get to know them all.”

 

Caleb nodded, then sighed, turning to pull a blanket over Nott, who was snoring in that 'I've had a lot to drink' way that she sometimes did. Frumpkin jumped up onto the bed next to her, and snuggled in. Molly and Caleb left the room, Caleb leaving her new keys on the table next to her. He left the door slightly ajar so Frumpkin could leave, and resolved to pick up some cat doors so Frumpkin could enter and leave his and Nott's rooms. He and Molly retired to the lounge. The tiefling dropped himself into the couch and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Caleb took a chance to look the tiefling over properly.

 

He was covered in small scars, criss-crossing his body like webbing. His neck was tattooed with a peacock whose feathers spread up onto his face, and he could tell it spread down his arm, turning into a snake somewhere along the way, for he could see its head on the back of his hand. He was lithely muscular, and Caleb hated to admit it, but his eyes lingered on his bulge longer than he cared to admit. He quickly looked away before the tiefling opened his eyes again, but thanks his perfect memory silently.

 

“Well... It has been a long day, Mollymauk...”

 

A single blood red eye opened.

 

“Going to bed, are you? No bother. I'll be going myself shortly.”

 

“Goodnight, Mollymauk.” He said his full name again, just for the taste of it on his lips.

 

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

 

 

He was quickly in his room and locked the door behind himself. He fumbled in one of the boxes of books that he had not quite unpacked yet and found his battered old tablet, so worn that nowhere would even offer him any coin in exchange for it. Molly had provided him with the passwords for the building's internet service, and he quickly signed in, fumbling for an old favourite bookmark. He hesitated before clicking it, just for a moment, then muttered a curse to himself and clicked it. A familiar black and orange website loaded, and he searched quickly, knowing exactly where he would find what he sought. _Fun in the Nine Hells._ He paused before clicking the link.

 

_Why the fuck are you doing this to yourself, Caleb?_

 

The thought hung heavy over him, like a leaden cloud. He knew exactly why. He wouldn't allow himself the real thing, so this would have to do. He clicked he link and the video loaded.

 

A human man was strapped to an X shaped board, a hole in the front that his erect cock hung through, heavy and red. He was blindfolded, and each of his limbs was strapped to a different point of the cross, his back and ass exposed. From behind him, a tiefling entered. This one was a deep violet, and had glowing golden eyes. He was dressed entirely in fetish gear, a leather harness perfectly framing his pierced nipples, and a thick cock-ring around his massive, veiny dick. Along the length little golden orbs could be seen – a variety of piercings that made Caleb's mouth water and his own cock begin to awaken with need. The tiefling approached a table and sorted through various tools, first lifting a small butt plug, and then, with a wolfish grin, a much larger, glass dildo. He then set them back down, and approached his bound lover, laying a trail of kisses across his shoulders. The human moaned, and his cock twitched as the tiefling leaned in.

 

“I've go plans for you tonight my love.”

 

“Plans, Master?”

 

Caleb winced. The dialogue in these was truly awful, but the sex? Wow. He had a perfect memory, but he still always came back to the actual video. Less to concentrate on.

 

“Yes, my pet. I'm going to do whatever I want to you, until you beg for my cock. And if you come before I say so, I will be incredibly displeased.”

 

The human did not reply, and the tiefling delivered a sharp slap across his ass, eliciting a lusty moan.

 

“Am I understood, pet?”

 

“Yes Master!” The human cried out.

 

Caleb knew there were fluffers in porn, but the human's cock was genuinely starting to leak pre-cum at his rough treatment. He began to loose his own breeches to free his rapidly hardening cock. He curled a hand around his length, and gave himself a few long, slow strokes. The tiefling dropped to his knees and laid a long, slow lick from the human's balls to his asshole, and the human thrusted, spasming eagerly against the cross he was tied to. The tiefling went to work like that rimming his lover. Caleb jerked his own cock more vigorously, eyes beginning to glaze with his own lust.

 

He didn't last much longer. When the tiefling had opened him up, he had placed the steel buttplug into his pet's ass, and revealed that the cross could in fact be adjusted to allow for the human's head to be lowered. He fucked his mouth, and that was as far as he got, listening to the slurps and gags of the man, imagining himself in that position. He paused the video and groaned, biting his lip to prevent himself from becoming too loud. He fucked his own fist, eyes screwed shut, getting closer and closer until he came with a wordless cry, but in his own fantasy, he was in the place of the human man, and it was Mollymauk tormenting him to a violent orgasm. He lay there a moment, cursing himself.

 

_For fuck's sakes Caleb._

 

 

There was a knock at his door about 8 the next morning. He blearily stumbled over to the door and opened it, peering out. Mollymauk stood there, beaming.

 

“Morning, darlin'. You need breakfast.”

 

The tiefling looked him up and down. “And a change of clothes!”

 

Calbe flushed. “I.... I only have these.”

 

Mollymauk's face softened with pity, and Caleb shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you can borrow something of mine, then. I'd say Pan's stuff might be more to your tastes, but he's broader built than yerself and you're taller than he is so.... Looks like you'll have to enjoy the stylings of the Haus of Tealeaf.”

 

He winked. _Fuck,_ thought Caleb. Mollymauk was hot and he almost certainly knew it. He left Caleb to eat cereal in the kitchen. No one else seemed to be awake yet, and through the still open crack in Nott's door he could see her still asleep. A few minutes passed and music started to softly emanate from Pan's shut door, signalling that at least someone had survived the inevitable hangover, and then Molly came back, bearing some clothes.

 

“Shower. Go. These should fit you fine for now. I'll have to take you to Gilmore's to get you some more clothes.”

 

“That is not necessary-”

 

“Yes, it is,” Mollymauk interrupted. “I want you to be comfortable living here, and to me, comfort is not having to do laundry every day.”

 

He made a face. “Plus everything you had on was hobo-chic, but without the chic part.”

 

Caleb smiled at that and allowed himself to be barrelled into the bathroom. “Use Pan's soap if you prefer it, but if you don't mind smelling like me – which Beau says is like a high class hooker which, admittedly, isn't the worst thing I've ever been called – my stuff is to the left of the sink, in the cupboard.”

 

Caleb nodded and went into the bathroom, shutting the door. Smelling like Molly and wearing his clothes? Today was going to be long.

 

 

 

Once he was washed and dressed in Molly's clothes (black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt with a man in a leather jacket having his eyes covered by a red tiefling with eyes tattooed on the backs of his hands, and a very soft blue hoody) they went down stairs and to a tram stop about a hundred meters from the building. Mollymauk had watched him the whole time, and the intensity of his gaze finally prompted Caleb to speak.

 

“Do I have something on my face...?”

 

Molly shook himself. “No, you just.... You look good. My clothes suit you.”

 

Caleb blushed. They boarded the tram and started their journey towards the building that housed the Enchanter's Labs, and sat in companionable silence until Mollymauk broke the silence:

 

“Do you know why we're called the Weaver's Guild?”

 

Caleb shook his head, and Mollymauk grinned.

 

“I love to tell this story. Okay, so,” he took a breath, and clapped his hands together. “About 200 and something years ago, we were locked in a brutal war with Xhorhas. Things were going badly, the Empire was getting overrun, and was resorting to worse and worse things in order to further the cause.”

 

Unbidden, images from his dreams (memories?) came flooding through his mind. Screams. A house on fire. His own burned hands. Shrieks and the stench of hospital disinfectant. He swallowed.

 

“I'm talking summoning fiends, necromancy, dangerous enchantments... real bad shit, y'know?”

 

He turned to look at Caleb, speaking as much with his hands as his mouth.

 

“So Madam Vostra's predecessor and mentor, this super old wood elf, this guy who was literally alive in the Age of Arcanum, Caulon of Whitestone, bands together with a few others, and they found the Guild of Weavers, with the notion coming from that the town we were built around used to be a linen exporting one, yeah? That's why our logo is an eye – dude apparently worshipped Ioun – interwoven with flax flowers. After he died, Madam Vostra took over and led us to where we are now. We'vehad a few embarrassing moments, sure, like not long after she took over it emerged that Caulon had fled Whitestone when it was under control of Necromancers and left people there to suffer. And y'know, the whole thing that happened with Vecna in Tal'Dorei was not good for the image of the Guild. But we try?”

 

The pair lapsed back into silence, Caleb watching out of the window. It was not long before they reached the tall, glass building that served as the centre for Enchantment at the Weaver's Guild. Caleb only knew a little about the actual Enchanting that went on here. He knew it was presided over by one Pumat Sol, an Enchanter of some renown in Zadash. He also knew that it was a excellent laboratory devoted to forwarding the skill of Enchanting in a modern world, finding knew applications for it. Like mobile phones enchanted to be unbreakable, car keys that can always be located with a command word. He had enchanted his own door key to the old flat to be able to be summoned in an instant. He was curious to see what he could learn here and to ply his trade.

 

They stepped off the tram and into the building. Introductions went by at a blinding speed, along with the tour. Pumat had him enchant a ring to show his skill and beamed when he tested it, declaring it a true work of skill, although rough at the edges. Caleb decided her liked the Firbolg. They ate lunch with the other Enchanters, a Dragonborn woman showing him her enchantment that made toy soldiers march when you spoke their command word. Everyone as friendly, and eager for him to join them. He was looking for ward to it too. The whole meal, however, he could feel anxiety settling in his stomach like a leaden weight. They left for the training grounds, which he knew was where his combat evaluation was to take place.

 

 

 

The colosseum was a large, square space heavily warded with protection magics to protect the audience. For this, it was empty but for a number of others also partaking of their evaluation that day, Madam Vostra, and a huge, muscular lady tiefling with blood red skin. He sat with Mollymauk on a bench at the back, watching as she put an eager Tabaxi through his paces.

 

“That's Pan and Grief's sister, Expertise. She's essentially our General.”

 

Caleb raised his eyebrows. The woman was easily taller than Yasha, and knotted with muscle and battle-scars. She was laughing as she fought, her white hair swept up and away from her pauldrons.

 

“Is she the sister of Grief that you slept with?”

 

Molly grinned. “Yeah.”

 

The fight raged until Madam Vostra called time and they both lowered their weapons, the Tabaxi panting. The severe elf nodded and a ragged cheer rose as he joined the group who had been accepted as warriors. There were more of them than there were of hose rejected, but those who had been looked relieved. It meant nice civilian jobs with no combat necessary. A human barbarian was called next, and Molly clapped Caleb on the shoulder.

 

“You'll be next up, it's change over soon and she likes to finish with a Wizard or a sorcerer . Big fan of being hit by spells so she can show how well she shrugs them off.”

 

Caleb swallowed nervously and looked down at his hands. He was not sure how well she was going to shrug off a fireball. The fight with the Barbarian did not last long, and he was soon welcomed amongst the successful. Mollymauk had been right, for right on cue, a big Kenku in plate armour arrived and nodded at Expertise, who smiled and then beckoned Caleb forwards. Molly patted him on the back, and allowed his hand to linger, for a moment.

 

“Go on, you'll be great. Once this is done you can take up that enchanting job in no time.”

 

Caleb nodded uncertainly and headed forwards, towards Expertise, who shook his hand.

 

“I hear you're rooming with my little brother? That's so sweet, he's a big fan of waifs and strays.”

 

She smiled, and Caleb noted that her teeth were incredibly sharp.

 

“I'm Expertise, but please, call me Ex. I want you to hit me as hard as you can with the biggest spell you've got.”

 

Caleb looked at Ex uncertainly. He had no doubts that she wanted for him to do it, but he took in her heavy plate, and her big shield. As if sensing his discomfort, she grinned wider.

 

“Don't worry, I can take it. I'll step away from the crowd.”

 

She took a few paces back. Caleb could still feel the fear bubbling through his stomach as he started to cast the spell. The woman grinned. Then he unleashed it quickly, a scorching fireball that exploded on her shield with a blast of white hot heat, it was too bright, it was too much it-

 

_Your fault. He was pulling desperately at the barricade, burning his hands. The screams had stopped and hands tried to pull him away but they could not hold him until someone larger came and lifted him away screaming and the smell of disinfectant and the hospital and the electric shocks and the pills and group therapy and the Master wanted Nothing To Do With Him and it's Your Fault and -_

 

“Caleb, darling, it's okay.”

 

He slowly became aware of arms around him, cradling him to a chest marked with hundreds of tiny scars. Mollymauk was cradling him, and before him knelt Ex, remarkably unmarred by his spell.

 

“What happened?”

 

He looked at Mollymauk and saw his confusion, and realised he had said it in Zemnian. It was Madam Vostra who answered him, in his mother tongue.

 

“You cast one of the best fireball spells I've seen from a newcomer in a long, _long_ time,” She said quietly, searching his face. “And if you're from where I think you're from,” she continued, “You need to be on one of our combat teams.”

 

He felt Molly clutch him tighter, and thought he might have heard the tiefling call his name, but it was too late, and he slipped into unconsciousness as he fainted.

 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A House Warming.

_Your Fault. Your Fault. The smell of smoke. The sweet, meaty smell of roasting flesh. The taste of tears and nausea. Your Fault. Smoke reaching its blackened fingers down his throat to choke him. The burning heat of flames on his skin, the burns on his hands. Your Fault._

 

He awoke back in his own bed, back in the apartment. Late afternoon sunshine was filtering in through a gap in the curtains, illuminating his room. He was still in the clothes that Molly had lent to him, and he could feel Frumpkin's comforting weight across his lap, where the cat slept. He propped himself onto his elbows slightly, and glanced around the room. Frumpkin awoke with a _mrrp_ and a purr, awakening and stretching, before climbing up to his chest and snuggling back in. Caleb absent-mindedly petted his soft fur, making his familiar purr all the harder. An odd feeling of relief filled him when he spotted Mollymauk, in profile, typing on a tablet in the alcove of his window, curled on the bench that spanned the breadth of the window, he looked relaxed, still dressed in the same clothes from earlier, but now with a patchwork blanket with what appeared to be the Platinum Dragon sewn onto it draped about him like a vaguely sacrilegious toga. In the back of his mind, he made a note to get himself a blanket for the seat when he had been paid.

 

“Hey.” Caleb managed. His voice sounded cracked and hoarse, as if he had been screaming. He supposed he might have been, and a curl of anxiety formed in his stomach, put there by the shame of having potentially had a full melt down in front of strangers.

 

“Hey yourself, ” Molly replied with a smile, setting down the tablet to come over and perch next to Caleb on the bed, and Caleb felt a weird surge of eager happiness that dispelled the anxiety. _What the fuck was that about?_ “How are you doin- Dumb question. Do you remember what happened?”

 

Caleb thought about it. He was terrified. He knew he had done something he had promised himself he'd never do again, and he didn't know why he'd done it. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. He wanted to phrase this carefully – lest he trigger another panic attack.

 

“The last thing I remember is Madam Vostra saying she wanted me for one of the combat teams.”

 

He clenched his fists, looking down to watch his knuckles go white, and felt his nails bite into his skin. The scars were there, a faint but constant reminder of what he had done. He was eternally grateful that Mollymauk had not yet asked where they were from.

 

“Yeah, she did.”

 

Mollymauk said it softly, sadly. Caleb glanced at him furtively out of the corner of his eye and saw the sadness there, true empathy for something he didn't understand, something that Caleb was fairly sure he would never understand. It was a balm, at least. Something

 

“She wants you to join my squad. We've been a man down since Julian took retirement. Caleb.... I know you clearly have issues regarding combat, but-”

 

“Not combat, he interjected. “Just.... Fire.”

 

The tiefling nodded sagely ad sighed, taking one of Caleb's hands. The human flinched slightly, but did not pull away.

 

“I... I won't push you for why. But... You clearly have a past there, a past that clearly hurts you and... And I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk-”

 

“Nein.”

 

Molly looked taken aback, and gaped at Caleb. “Sorry?”

 

Caleb sighed, and frowned, looking away. “No, I'm sorry. I just...” He bit his lip, and tried to swallow the panic.

 

“I just can't... I've never even told Nott. I just.... I don't think I'll ever be ready I-”

 

He broke off with a sob of the terror that had filled his chest, and Molly pulled him into a hug, cradling the man's head against his chest. Caleb allowed himself to be pulled in, relishig the tender contact. He didn't deserve this.

 

“It's okay, shush, shush. You don't have to explain. It's alright. I'll explain to Madam Vostra, that you want to just work as an enchanter, she'll understand.”

 

Caleb felt a pang of guilt, and unbidden, the words rushed to his lips. He had been arguing with himself on the inside the whole time, but this pushed one side to victory, He wanted to help Molly. He wanted to work with him. He wanted to be useful to this wonderful man, who had taken him in and found him safe work and-

 

“I'll do it,” he stammered out, before flushing when he realised he had said it in Zemnian. “I mean.... I want to do it. I would very much like to help you, Mollymauk.”

 

The tiefling's eyes widened. “Caleb-”

 

“I want to join your combat team. Only yours. If... If I am welcome, that is.”

 

Molly quirked his head at him. “Caleb, you don't have to do that.”

 

The wizard shrugged.“I want to. I think... I think it would be good for me.”

 

“If you're sure, I can speak to Madam Vostra tomorrow,” Molly said gently, his red eyes roving over Caleb, looking over him for some sign that he was not being entirely truthful. Caleb wasn't sure himself. “Tonight however, we have some people coming over. Just friends, you met some the other night when they brought Nott home?”

 

Caleb nodded. He remembered them perfectly.

 

“We're throwing a small get together – a house warming,if you will. Jester insisted.”

 

There was a quick flash of something across Molly's face, almost too quick for him to catch. If it meant what he thought, he agreed: seems nice, but a bit of a handful.

 

“It'll be me, you, Nott, Pan – and Frumpkin, I guess – Ex, Beau, Jester and her boyfriend Fjord, Yasha, and Cali, It's just a few beers, some music, probably a good time. Sound good to you?”

 

Caleb nodded hesitantly. It did sound fun.

 

“Great!” Molly sprung to his feet. “You get some more rest, we'll set everything up.”

 

 

 

It was not fun. The apartment was full and incredibly loud, with rock music with the occasional synth-pop blasting in the background, and around 20 people (maybe more) filling up their open plan living area. He had spotted a few familiar faces – Yasha and Beau talking in a corner, Nott and what appeared to be a Kenku girl, Fjord and Jester in the kitchenette, Expertise with a few of her combat trainers at the kitchen bar arm wrestling. Molly sat with Pan and a half-elf on the couch, all of them clutching a beer and talking. Having spotted Caleb, Molly waved him on over.

 

“Hey! Glad you emerged from your room. Charter, pass him a beer.”

 

The half elf lifted a small can of ale from a box between his feet, clutched it for a moment, and then chucked it to Caleb, who just barely managed to catch it. With surprise, he noted that it was cold.

 

“How did you chill this?”

 

The half elf grinned. “Frost magic.”

 

Caleb smiled despite himself. He knew the spell that this half-elf Charter had used, but it had never occurred to him to use it in that way.

 

“That's a good trick. I'll have to use it.”

 

Molly huckled. “Caleb, you obviously know Pan, but this is Charter. He's our mission co-ordinator. When we all go out, he's our link back to here. If something goes wrong, he does his best to help us out.”

 

“You make me sound like a saint!”

 

He heard the accent this time. Like himself, the half-elf was Zemnian. It was fainter, like he had not lived there long or as if he had not been home in many a year.

 

“You are Zemnian?”

 

The half-elf grimaced. “Don't know if you can say that you are when you haven't lived there in more than half a lifetime. But yeah, I'm from Zemni Fields. Left when I was a kid. Was supposed to be going to Soltryce Academy, but after the controversy there, my dad decided against it and we moved to Nicodranus and I went to school there instead.”

 

His blood went cold at the mention of the Academy, and he took a long drink of his beer. Hopefully no one would ask where he trained, so he didn't have to talk about what they had done to him. The mere threat of dredging up those memories made a chill spike of anxiety form in his gut. He was saved however, by Expertise coming and draping herself over the half-elf's shoulders, and applying a kiss to his neck.

 

“Caleb!” Her voice managed to boom, even though this was clearly her normal speaking volume. It made him worry about what she would sound like if she was to yell.

 

“Molly tells me you're willing to join his squadron?”

 

“Ja, Expertise.”

 

The tiefling smiled, and he caught a glimpse of her incredibly sharp teeth, her canines replaced by solid gold false teeth.

 

“Just Ex, dear. Madam Vostra will be pleased to hear it. Has he introduced you to everyone else properly, told you what they do?”

 

My blank look must have given it away. The big tiefling sighed, drew herself up to her full, statuesque height, and put her hands on her hips.

 

“Mollymauk Ignatius Tealeaf. You want this young man to join your squad, and yet you have not introduced him to everyone? Go. Do it. Now.”

 

“That's not my middle name, Ex.”

 

“Don't care. Go.”

 

With an exaggerated sigh, Molly rolled to his feet.

 

“Alright _mom.”_

 

“Don't sass me. Get on with it.”

 

Molly reached out and took Caleb by the hand, which sent a pang of happiness singing through his veins. He led the human exactly one step, in front of Pan, who raised an eyebrow and took another drink of beer.

 

“Caleb, as you already know, this is Pandemonium Pelaois, Hexblade warlock, wielder of Displacement.”

 

The tiefling saluted mockingly with his beer bottle, and Caleb was whisked off towards the kitchen, where Fjord and Jester were now chatting with Nott and the Kenku.

 

“This is Fjord, also a Hexblade, wielder of a falchion, sicks up seawater sometimes. “

 

The half-orc rolled his eyes at Molly, and clapped Caleb on the shoulder.

 

“Glad you're joining us, your smaller pal here joined us already. She was drunk though, but maybe you could talk her into staying.”

 

Nott made a face, and Caleb smiled at her. “Not feeling up to some adventures with me, _liebling_?”

 

The goblin shrugged. “As long as you're there I guess I'm happy to come...”

 

He smiled at that.

 

“This is Jester, a Cleric, worships something called the Traveller. She's the ultimate hipster, seeing as we can't seem to find anyone else who worships him.”

 

The blue tiefling stuck her tongue out at Molly, then immediately pulled Caleb into a hug so tight it made his bones creak, lifting him off his feet and causing him to make a strangled yelping noise.

 

“I'm so please to meet you properly!”

 

She put him down and he wheezed, the woman still beaming at him.

 

“My name is Jester Lavorre, I'm your healer!”

 

“It is nice to meet you both.” He said quietly, smiling softly at both of them. He was not able to continue his conversation, as Molly whipped him away towards Yasha and the woman Beau, who were still chatting in the corner. As they got close, Beau shot Molly a glare, a look that clearly said that he was choosing precisely the wrong time to be coming over. That seemed to only make Mollymauk more eager to barge in and interrupt what they were talking about.

The look on her face only intensified as Molly got up close.

 

“Molly.”

 

It was said as a warning. There was no denying the venom there, and Caleb started to feel very small, and very much like he needed to leave, but Mollymauk's grip on his hand was iron, and he allowed it to root him to that moment and stop him from fleeing.

 

“Beau! This is Caleb, he'll be joining us.”

 

Her scowl softened slightly when she looked at Caleb, her brown eyes flicking down to his hand trapped in Molly's white-knuckled grip, as if acknowledging her fellow human was not to blame for this intrusion.

“Picking up where old Julian left, huh?”

 

He nodded uncertainly.

 

“That's good. I'm Beauregarde. I uh, hit stuff. I'm a monk. And I guess you already know Yasha. She's our Barbarian.”

 

The big woman shot him a warm, but brief smile.

 

“Well, best let you both get back to flirting really badly with each other! Bye!”

 

Beau opened her mouth to protest, but Molly was already off, trailing Caleb in his wake. The incredibly pale Yasha was blushing, and covered it up by pretending to take a drink of beer. He was pulled around several other groups, people who were not on the team, but helped out. Enchanters, armourers, healers. Members of other teams were among them, there were too many names, and he was very glad he had a perfect memory, for anyone else would have long forgotten that information. He eventually was released when they got back to the couches, and, overwhelmed, he managed to dart into his room, locking the door behind him. He curled up on his window seat, quickly joined with Frumpkin who crawled between his lap with a purr.

 

The music went on for a few more hours, and he was easily able to ignore it and turn back to his book. Eventually, the music petered out, and he hazarded a guess that the party was over, and people had gone home. Carefully, he slipped from the window seat, apologising to Frumpkin who woke with a displeased _murrp_ as he moved, and slipped into the main living area. It was a mess, but thankfully empty. Nott's door was shut, as was Pan's, and he padded to the kitchenette with the intent of making himself a cup of tea, before he heard a low moan. He looked up towards the three doors, and saw that Mollymauk's was slightly opened. He pursed his lips and weighed up his options. 

 

He could, of course, ignore it, swap his tea for a water so that the noise made would be minimal, and go back to his room and pretend he heard nothing. Or of course, he could slip over, quietly shut the door, and make a cup of tea. Molly had probably drunk enough that he wouldn't notice, and the ministrations of his companion would almost certainly distract him enough to allow Caleb to do so. He took the second option, and slipped up to the door, as quietly as he could, and took hold of the handle, slowly beginning to turn it. He made the mistake of looking up. 

 

Pan sat atop Mollymauk, riding his fellow tiefling, eyes screwed shut and mouth open in a breathy  _oh._ Molly himself was gripping his ass, almost certainly hard enough to leave fingerprints. Caleb's hand slipped, and the doorknob made a loud clicking as it snapped back to its original position. The pair's eyes snapped open, and Pan frantically pulled himself off and away, desperately grabbing his clothes from the floor. Caleb backed away, hands up in a silent apology, but the tiefling was faster. He was dressed in the blink of an eye, and he shoved past Caleb, making a beeline for the front door, which he wrenched open and vanished into the night, leaving Caleb alone with a Mollymauk who had just about pulled his Platinum Dragon shawl over himself, covering his nudity. 

 

“Oh _Fuck.”_

 


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are best left behind closed doors.

He actually didn't see Pandemonium for a week. The next morning, he had darted out the door with a rucksack that was clearly full of clothes and had blanched when he saw Caleb sat in the kitchen. Caleb tried to apologise to him, but the tiefling had scurried off before he could say a word. He had sorted out the issues of boundaries with Mollymauk directly, and Molly had apologised and agreed to keep his door shut in future if he was having any sexual encounters in future. Nott had found the situation rather gross, and had loudly voiced her agreement for doors to be kept shut and for sex to be kept in bedrooms and out of sight. After a week, Mollymauk pulled him to one side in the Kitchenette, saying they needed to talk.

 

“So, I've already had this conversation with Nott, but it's important I talk about it with you too.”

 

“Ja, what is it?”

 

“When Pan comes back.... Don't apologise. Don't let on you saw anything. Don't bring anything up.”

 

“...Why?”

 

Mollymauk sighed, and ran a tattooed hand through his curled purple hair.

 

“Last time one of his family members found out, he got dragged back to the Nine Hells. He came back a month later, covered in new scars, and refused to talk for about a week. It was terrifying. He's scared that if you tell anyone, even bring it up to him, he'll get dragged back. It's best if you pretend you've forgotten the whole thing.”

 

“...Where has he been all week?”

 

“Hiding out at Jester's. His sister is sympathetic, she's been through the same thing, but his brothers? Bastards, the lot of them. Especially Grief. He'd probably enjoy getting him in trouble.”

 

Caleb thought about it for a minute. Sure, it would be awkward to discuss the elephant in the room, and that had never been his forte. Especially when the elephant in the room was talking about seeing a room mate you were crushing on (slightly crushing on, he mentally corrected) fucking your other room mate. It would genuinely be easier to pretend nothing had ever happen.

 

“Yes, I think I'm okay with that. I won' mention it to him when he comes home.”

 

Mollymauk's face cracked from his mask of concern into a beautiful smile of relief, which made Caleb's heart sing.

 

“Thank you. He's... He's been kind to me.”

 

They were silent for a minute, Mollymauk looking down at his hands in his lap.

 

“Can I tell you about myself, Caleb?”

 

“Of course you can, Mollymauk.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

They lapsed back into silence for a moment, Mollymauk seemingly gathering his thoughts. Caleb snapped his fingers and Frumpkin appeared on the tiefling's lap, purring and nuzzling into his hands, giving them something to touch and occupy themselves with instead of clutching and unclutching his knees.

 

“I... I effectively came into being 2 years ago. Before that, I have no memories of who I am, of who I was. I woke up in a shallow grave, wearing a homespun robe and nothing else.”

 

He paused then, giving this statement a moment to sink in, stroking the cat absently. Caleb watched him, watching the corners of his eyes for any sign of tightening, anything that would tell him that Molly needed to stop.

 

“I had only the eyes you can see amongst my tattoos, the rest are later additions to help hide them. When I fight, they bleed. It doesn't hurt, but... It's weird, I guess. Apparently all I was saying was 'empty', or so I've been told. The first few days still feel like a dream, in all honesty. Fletching and Moondrop, two of our undercover rangers found me alone out there. Fletching called me Mollymauk after one of his old colleagues, and Tealeaf just.... I just chose it, I guess. They brought me back here, and I was evaluated, and looked after.”

 

Caleb found himself reaching out, and rested his hand on Molly's leg, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

 

“If you need to stop -”

 

“No, I want to tell you. Please.”

 

Caleb nodded his understanding, and left his hand where it was. A grounding point.

 

“Eventually they concluded I wasn't a threat, and that in fact, they didn't know who I used to be. No one who works for the Guild or was known of by the Guild matches my description. I asked if I could have a job, and they offered me a spot on the same combat team Pan had just joined along with Jester, Fjord, Yasha, Beau and Julian, under their handler. He was not long from the Nine Hells, where he'd grown up, and upon coming through, bonded with that sword of his. He refused to go home, so a few of his siblings joined. Ex, I know, was because she actually liked the idea and well, she really likes hitting stuff as hard as she can. Grief... Grief joined to keep tabs on his brother. Guy's a grade A cunt in all honesty, if you'll excuse my language.”

 

He looked at Caleb with what seemed almost like an exhaustion, as if telling him all of this was a drain upon his energy.

 

“He had gotten this place, and he offered me a room. The rest, as they say, was history. We became friends, and yeah, we did sleep together a few times. He hurled that fact during an argument with his brother, who reported back to daddy dearest. You know the rest. He's been kind to me, so.... Please. Don't say a word.”

 

“I won't say a thing, Mollymauk. I promise.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

He smiled at Caleb, and there was a tension in the room, not unpleasant, but a tension none the less, like they were supposed to follow this up in some way, but neither of them knew how. Eventually Molly clapped his hands together, startling Frumpkin, who darted off his lap and onto the counter with a disgruntled look over his shoulder.

 

“Want to go for a pint? Or two?”

 

“Sure, if you want to, that is.”

 

“Of course I do, I asked didn't I?”

 

He laughed, and Caleb was glad of it. It almost made his heart feel as if it had gotten lighter.

 

“Okay, then. I will... Get changed?”

 

“Yes! I'll take you to where he's been hiding out, he's sweet on a bartender at a bar just outside the city limits. It's a great bar, and seeing as it's Saturday, we'll be able to see a good live band tonight. Choose something cool.”

 

He must have made a face at that, for Mollymauk laughed and flashed a brilliant smile. Caleb felt himself blush.

 

“Darkest jeans you own, tightest t-shirt. Was your hair but let it dry messy. Keep the stubble, though. It looks really good on you.”

 

His blush felt like it had worsened, and his ears felt hot.

 

“I'll lend you a leather, leave that awful coat here.”

 

“Hey now!”

 

“I'm right, you know I am.”

 

He couldn't help but smile at that, and sloped off to the bathroom, making a mental note to buy his own soap and stop using Mollymauk's. Tomorrow, perhaps. He did like it, though. He enjoyed smelling of sandalwood and smoke and clove – it was reassuring to have a small luxury, even if it was just to smell of something other than the cheapest soap in Pumat's store, or the cheapest that Nott could cobble together from her alchemy acid and ingredients. He took his time, enjoying the heat and power of the massaging head, lathering his hair with some shampoo pinched from Molly's cabinet.

 

Unbidden, a thought sprung into his mind. Him and Mollymauk, on his floor, and himself atop the tiefling, in much the same position as he had witnessed. Him, rolling his hips and throwing his head back as Molly's cock ground all the right places. Mollymauk, eyes half lidded, a deeper red than normal, thrusting his hips upwards to meet every roll of Caleb's hips. He felt his cock throb.  _Schei_ _ß_ _e._ He licked his lips. The shower would certainly cover any noises he would make, but he was good at staying quiet. 

 

He doesn't allow himself to settle back on that fantasy. That was a bad idea, and he didn't deserve anything like that. It shifts between different images, all with the same trend. Things pulled from the cavernous libraries of his memories, blurred faces, soft bodies. He focuses on just two sensations, the pounding of the water on his back and the feeling of his own hand around his cock, clenching ever so slightly as he twists around his base, the ghost of a ghost of a sexual encounter, the vague idea of a body spasming around his dick. Once more, unbidden, the fantasy comes back, and he pushes it away, settling back into the faceless forms, all now tauntingly lavender and horned. Warm flesh, begging to be fucked. He screwed his eyes shut as he came, biting back the whimper that tried its best to crawl its way out of his throat. 

 

The water wicked away his mess and he hurriedly finished up, suddenly conscious of spending too long in the shower. He dried himself, did what molly recommended and slicked his hair back in the mirror and draped his robe around him before darting out and across to his bedroom. He raided his drawers for the Black Jeans, a pair of jeans he had picked up in a second hand shop that he had worn precisely once before Nott had banned them. He laid them out on his bed and bit his lip, weighing up his options. 

 

Nott had banned this jeans because they were  _exceedingly_ tight, they gripped his ass and thighs, and she said they left little to the imagination, which, given their long friendship and the almost siblinghood they shared, he had understood. He was loathe to get rid of perfectly good clothes, however, which is why he had kept them. He decided to go for it. Worst case scenario, he was ribbed by Molly and anyone they caught up with at the bar. Best case scenario was Molly thought he looked good. Which, he hated to admit, he did want. He went for a red shirt Nott had gotten for him at a festival she had worked, with a massive depiction of a black dragon printed on the front of it, and looked at himself in his wardrobe's mirror. It wasn't necessarily him, but he felt good. He felt as if he had made an effort. There was a knock at the door, and he turned. 

 

“ _Ja?”_ He called, pushing his hair back again. 

 

Molly's arm appeared through the gap he had created, a leather jacket clutched in his hand. 

 

“You decent? I thought you could have this, it'll fit you perfectly.”

 

“You can come in, I'm dressed. Not sure about decent.”

 

Molly laughed, and pushed the door open the rest of the way. 

 

“Was that a joke?”

 

“Nein.”

 

“That's a shame. It was a good one-”

 

He froze when he finally looked at Caleb, looking him up and down, a faint smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

 

“What? Is there something on my face?”

 

“No it's just...” he trailed off, gesturing at him vaguely. “You just look really good, Caleb. It suits you. You should wear those colours together more often.”

 

He broke off, and chuckled suddenly. 

 

“I mean, at least it's not brown.” 

 

He ran off, mock yelping as Caleb threw a pillow at him, leather jacket in a crumpled heap on the floor. Caleb laughed, then dipped down to pick it up. He tried it on, and had to admit, the biker cut, aged leather looked good on him, and fitted well. He grabbed his keys and wallet and shoved them into his pockets before stepping out of his room. Molly lounged on the couch, dressed in all black, but with a sequinned red bomber jacket over the top. He looked incredible. His mouth suddenly felt very dry.

 

“Is Nott coming?” He asked, glancing towards her door. 

 

“No, she said something about meeting up with an old friend at the Alchemy building. She said she'd probably not be home 'til morning.”

 

He nodded and allowed himself to be corralled to the door. He suddenly needed a drink. 

 

 

_The Hydra_ was one of those places that could be described as an upmarket dive. It was lively,but the grime seemed almost deliberately applied, the grunge artfully inscribed to give this relatively new bar an old-school feel. It was built in what had been a temple, once upon a time, but the original building had been attacked by a real hydra and the priests and clerics had elected to move the building to a newer site further out in the country side. It had been a few things in the time between bar and ancient church, a court, and a manor among them, but as this bar it seemed to have found its niche. The oppressive black stone looked striking with the venom green neon sign that marked it out on the narrow street it sat on. From the outside, in the queue, the sounds of music could be heard echoing through the vents and stained glass windows into the street. 

 

Caleb and Molly did not queue. They walked to the front, where a large Goliath woman nodded them into the building, clapping Molly on the back as he passed. When he spotted Caleb's quizzical expression, he laughed. 

 

“Old friend. I know her uncle, works for the Guild.” 

 

He rolled his eyes at him then grabbed Caleb by the hand, pulling him deeper into the pulsing depths of the bar. He pulled him down a narrow hallway that eventually opened up into a large, open plan space, a room that had clearly been part of the main cathedral, which had been divided into separate sections. He spotted Pan by the bar, chatting with a goth looking bartender who kept batting his eyelashes at Pan hopefully. The band on the stage finished up, and Molly applauded, releasing Caleb's clammy hand. He smiled at Pan when the other tiefling spotted him, face a brief mask of panic before relaxing when he realised Caleb was not approaching angrily, ready to lambast him. Molly dove between them, hugging his friend and whispering into his ear, prompting a vicious laugh. 

 

“What you drinking?”

 

The bartender's voice was low and rumbled, and Caleb leaned over the bar to squint at the labels. 

 

“Oh, surprise the poor bugger, Saelhil. Give him a Shock me.”

 

The elf's face split into a wicked smile, then he turned and pulled a bottle of Alfield Brown from the fridge and cracked it open, then pulled two short tumbler glasses from a shelf above the bar. He poured the bottle into a cocktail shaker. To that, he added a staggering amount of good bourbon, a little bit of a light brown liquor from another small bottle, and a long squeeze of what seemed to be maple syrup. He then added ice liberally and stirred the mixture, before attaching a strainer and splitting it between two glasses. Pan paid for their drinks, and Molly and Caleb picked up their glasses, Molly with a practised, well-worn grace and Caleb with great apprehension. Molly took a drink, and Caleb dared to sip. It was sweet, vaguely beery, and didn't taste at all alcoholic. A most dangerous combination. He took a longer sip, glancing around the bar. The bartender and Pan had both vanished, leaving Molly and Caleb with the band in the bar, and a good night ahead of them. He tried to look like he wasn't staring at Molly, who was whooping for the new band that had just been announced on stage, and then settled in next to him against the bar, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips

 


	7. Seven

When he awoke the next morning, his mouth tasted like something had died in it, the light hurt his eyes, and his brain felt like it had been grasped roughly and wrung of all its moisture. More alarmingly, he was not in his own bed, but the sheets smelt familiar, and comforting. He sat up warily, and looked blearily around: posters, occult symbols, a large blanket themed with Platinum Dragon symbols, and most notably, a purple, out cold Mollymauk lying next to him, deeply asleep. He scrambled to get out of the bed, panicking that they had done something last night whilst drunk out of their minds, but to his relief, as he flung back the covers, he found that he was still dressed, having shed only his shoes and borrowed jacket. Molly was also still fully dressed, and stirred when Caleb disturbed the warm nest. He opened his eyes, bleary and unfocused, and stretched like a cat.

 

“Mornin'.”

 

His voice made Caleb smile, rumbly from disuse and probably from the vague memory he had of both of them howling along to a song. Molly squinted at him and frowned.

 

“Glad I didn't imagine both of us just collapsing in a heap in here. I have a vague memory of you trying to tuck me in.”

 

“I have a vague memory of you insisting I stay and keep you company.”

 

“And you did. Can't say I remember why I asked.”

 

“Probably because of those cocktails you kept feeding me.”

 

At the mention of cocktails Mollymauk moaned unhappily and curled deeper into the blankets.

 

“Please don't bring up cocktails.”

 

“I plan not to.”

 

Molly was the first to crawl out of the bed and stumble towards the door. Suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of being in Molly's bed without him, Caleb scrambled upwards himself and followed.

 

“Coffee?”

 

“Please.”

 

They entered the kitchenette in silence. Nott and Pan's doors were both closed, but Molly chuckled and jingled a set of keys he found on the long central counters.

 

“Whose are those?”

 

“Saelhil's. Looks like I know where they vanished to last night.”

 

Caleb smiled. He had liked the cheeky bartender, and there was something that made him incredibly pleased that Pan had not stayed and spent more time with Molly. It was jealousy, but admitting it even to himself would be the first step to admitting that he maybe (potentially) had a small, innocent crush on Mollymauk. Which he didn't.

 

Molly turned on the coffee machine and it burbled into life, then stalked over to the fridge and grumbled unhappily.

 

“There's nothing good.”

 

“That refrigerator is literally full of food, Molly.”

 

“Yeah but literally all of it requires cooking. Which I don't want to do.”

 

Caleb sighed. He examined the contents of the fridge himself, and pieced together a meal as best he could, but smiled. Potatoes, eggs, bacon, leeks... Bauernfruhstuck. The perfect hangover breakfast. He grabbed everything he needed and set to work while Molly finished off their coffees. He quickly crisped the bacon, removed it, then set to work on the potatoes, frying them in the fat left over. He took his coffee gratefully and took a long swallow despite its near-scalding heat, and then finished making breakfast. He sat one plate before a grateful, and hungry looking Molly, before coming around and taking a seat on a second barstool, pleased he had made enough for both of them, Nott, and Pan and his guest should they awaken soon. 

 

“Caleb, I don't know what this is but it smells absolutely amazing.”

 

“Thank you. It's Bauernfruhstuck, my mother used to make it in the mornings when I was small or when she just wanted something quick if she and father were busy.”

 

He pushed back the rising tide of guilt that awoke at the thought of his mother, the action second nature to him now. He couldn't give any indication to Mollymauk of his discomfort. 

 

“What happened to her?” 

 

The question was asked softly, carefully, as if Molly already knew the answer. Caleb stiffened, and kept eating for a moment, mentally preparing the lie he would give. 

 

“I mean, if you don't want to talk about it that's cool too-”

 

“She and my father are both dead,” He finally managed. “There was a fire... They both got trapped and couldn't escape, along with my last cat. I.... I was not inside at the time the fire started.” 

 

Molly looked distraught, embarrassed to have brought up something like this that clearly hurt Caleb to speak about. If only he knew the real reasons. For his discomfort and his parent's death. 

 

“It's okay. It was a long time ago, and you didn't know. I don't exactly announce it to everyone I meet.”

 

“Is that why.... With the fireball...?”

 

Caleb swallowed nervously, and was glad that Molly seemed to take it that he was swallowing back tears and started rubbing a thumb over the back if his hand, 

 

“Yes,” he lied. “Fires frighten me, in all honesty. I learned the spells to prove I have mastered my fears.” 

 

Molly nodded sagely and took another bite of eggs, and they lapsed back into silence, a tension in the air. 

 

“This break fast is amazing,” Molly said, suddenly breaking the silence. “This is the best hangover breakfast I've ever had. I must get off my tits with you more often.”

 

Caleb laughed, choking on a bit of egg. 

 

“Thank you, Mollymauk.”

 

There was a creak behind them and Pan emerged, closely followed by Saelhil, both of whom looked worse for wear. Saelhil started making coffee while Pan filled two bowls with the egg mixture. 

 

“Should have known the smell of food cooking would summon you.”

 

“The summoning circle for me is a large circle, my name written in infernal, freshly cooked eggs and bacon and a large bottle of gin.”

 

He took a large mouthful of eggs then moaned, chewed, and swallowed.

 

“Caleb, I love you.”

 

“I'm getting that a lot this morning. I think it is just cupboard love.”

 

“Refrigerator. But point taken.” 

 

He swapped a bowl of breakfast for a cup of coffee from Saelhil, who also smiled appreciatively after taking a bite of Caleb's concoction. The four of them ate together, until all of their phones started buzzing at once. Frowning, Caleb fished his out of a pocket, not recognising the number texting him. Everyone else however, groaned unhappily. Nott's door opened, and she appeared, bleary eyed, clutching her own phone. 

 

“Wha's this?”

 

Molly sighed, and turned his phone around to show Caleb his screen. He had the mystery number saved as  _Weavers_ , and his message said the same thing.  _1PM sharp. - V._

 

“We've all been called in. There's a mission for us.”

 

“Same here,” Saehil croaked. “She's probably sending out my group too,”

 

“You are also a member, as well as a bartender?”

 

“Well, yeah,” the elf shrugged. “I get bored, I was a bartender before I became a Druid. I'm on the same squad as Grief.”

 

Upon mentioning Pandemonium's brother, he grimaced. Pan and Molly both grinned.   


“See, it's not just us!” Molly laughed. He pisses everyone off, even if he s a good fighter.

 

“Might be a good fighter,” Saelhil said. “But he's an absolute cunt.”

 

 

 

 

The main building was a hive of activity. They'd had just enough time to gear up, get Nott fed and wash the alcohol smell from their skins before they left. When they arrived, Saehil peeled off towards Grief and a few others, and Caleb couldn't help but look over to examine the group. Amongst them was a Tabaxi, a Lizardfolk, a couple of humans and a half-elf. He wrenched his eyes away before the big tiefling could catch him staring, not sure that he wanted to speak to Grief after all he had heard about the tiefling. They soon found everyone else, dressed in their armour and bearing their weapons, Madam Vostra stood amongst them. 

 

“What's going on, Madam?”

 

The elf surveyed Mollymauk idly, before launching into her speech, clearly prepared for the occasion. 

 

“It isn't often we work based on intelligence sent by this organisation, but The Gentleman has come to us with a request that would be mutually beneficial. Under the city of Zadash, the sewers eventually connect up to natural caverns that run many miles deep. Until very recently, he had been using these tunnels to store his ah..... Wares, if you will. But in the last month or so, many of his employees have been disappearing after being sent to work in these caverns, and those who do come back talk of strange noises from the deep, of black flames in the caverns and faces in the water. He sent a group of freelancers in to get the system cleared out. Only one returned, and the man has gone mad. He was screaming of the same things: black flames, watery faces, voices from the deep telling him to 'disturb not the delvers'. That was when he thought it was under our purview, and in our best interests to step in.”

 

“So are multiple groups going?” Pandemonium asked. 

 

She frowned. 

  
“No, and more's the pity. We currently have reports of a dragon sighting on the Xhorhasian border. I'm dispatching your brother to deal with it.”

 

He nodded sagely, but Caleb saw the tightening around his eyes. Worry. Either for Grief or for Saelhil. He could not be sure which, but could certainly hazard a guess. 

 

“You will be going into the sewers. Charter will be co-ordinating. He has enough communicators for you all, but you should still buddy up.”

 

Charter had appeared at her elbow, and he nodded. 

 

“I'll be buddying you. Not having what happened last time happening _again._ ” 

 

He gave Beau and Yasha a pointed look, clearly intended to be stern, but Caleb could see the twinkle in his eyes. 

 

“Our buddy system is as follows: Caleb, as our newest member, I'll put you with Mollymauk. He acts the fool, but you know him and you'll do okay together. Jester, you'll be with Nott. Beau, you're with Pan. Pan, keep her out of trouble, and Yasha will be partnered by Fjord.”

 

He sighed.

 

“And please behave yourselves? I don't want a repeat of last time.”

 

In an aside to Mollymauk, he leaned to the tiefling's ear, suddenly nervous.

 

“What happened last time?” He whispered. The tiefling grinned.

 

“Ask Jester, she tells the story better.” 

 

With that, Charter moved on to another group to speak to them, leaving them alone with Madam Vostra, who nodded at them all, clearly pleased that they were ready. She handed out their supply kits, and with that, they were bundled outside, ready to be taken to the location, Caleb painfully aware of the growing knot of anxiety forming in his stomach. 

 

 


	8. Eight

They travelled by van to the entry point that had been chosen for them nearer to the centre of the city, and there they were greeted by a few Crownsguard, the police of the city, who greeted Charter by shaking his hand and leading him to their operations tent. It was nearly a full half-hour before he returned, and in that time, Jester, Fjord and Beau pressed upon him his combat gear, and encouraged him into a bathroom to change. He looked over the armour, and found himself marvelling at its quality: It was the same charcoal grey worn by the others, but was chased with the delicate flax-flower blue in its detailing. He pulled it on, and marvelled at how comfortable it was, before picking up the black cloak he had also been provided with, sucking in a breath when he felt the enchantment on it. He debated casting identify, and was about to sit down and perform the ritual for its casting when he noticed the label that was still attached to it, marking it as a cloak of protection. He pulled it on gratefully, and fastened it with the Weaver's Guild logo clasp he had been given. Once done, he surveyed himself in the mirror, and admired what he saw. With a shave and a decent haircut, he'd look pretty damn respectable. 

 

Molly of course, looked wonderful in the armour. He accessorised his own armour with his garishly patterned coat, and thigh high boots that looked like they had the flax flower design embossed into their leather. Jester was much the same, and had attached ribbons and many, many glittering embellishments to her own. Beau wore a blue version of the armour, cut in a lighter style, marking her own as a member of the partnership between the Cobalt Soul Monastery and the Weaver's Guild. Hers was decorated with the flax flower and eyes, the symbol of the Knowing Mistress, to whom her order was dedicated. Yasha wore hers bereft of colour, the same as Fjord, whose only embellishment was a talisman that looked vaguely like a giant squid. Nott wore the usual bandages and her mask as always, still nervous about being on the streets of Zadash, for you could never tell if someone was going to take issue with her presence as she was a Goblin.

 

Charter came back with a spring in his step and a smile on his lips, and cracked his knuckles, before pulling a hand through the air and pulling a bow from nowhere, eliciting a ragged cheer from Beau and Molly. 

 

“You're actually going to come in with us?!” Molly asked, eager but still unbelieving. 

 

“Yes, gotta do some shooting or I'll get rusty,” Charter replied with a wink. “The captain here has agreed to be a surface contact for us, and he'll contact Madam Vostra should anything untoward happen or if we need assistance.” 

 

Molly grinned, but Caleb was more drawn to the way he had pulled the bow seemingly from nowhere.

 

“How did you do that? That was like when Pandemonium or Fjord pulls a sword? But I am guessing you are not a warlock?”

 

“No, I'm not. I'm an arcane archer. I can weave spells around my shooting. It's not a common field to work in. I learned it in the school I went to instead of Soltryce.” 

 

Caleb just nodded, unwilling to entertain further conversation in case it led into a conversation about his magical studies. He didn't want them to know. He didn't want any of them to know what he had done there or done after. 

 

He was saved by Charter gathering them all to lead them down into the sewers, pausing only at the gates to make sure everyone was fully equipped and accounted for, and then their descent into the deep dank darkness began. 

 

 

 

 

The sewers seemed to continue for an age, and all they had encountered so far had been rats and a single large monster that Jester had disturbed as it slumbered, disguised as a pile of refuse, but it had been quickly burned away by their combined assault. After what felt like a few hours, the sewers seemed to open up, the underground tunnels becoming caverns as they pulled away from the constructed, maintained city areas into naturally wrought halls of stone. Caleb called forth his dancing lights around him, illuminating the caverns and throwing their surroundings into sharp relief. They continued like this for a while until Ford threw an arm out across Charter, stopping everyone in their tracks. He pointed down at the ground and they all looked, spotting the dark droplets that splattered along the ground, leading away from their circle of light and into the shadowed halls. He leaned down, and took a swipe through the droplets, frowning when the blood did not smear. 

 

“It's not fresh. No telling how long it's been there, unfortunately. Not when it's this dry.” 

 

Mollymauk leaned down and examined the droplets himself. 

 

“Whoever it was from, it wasn't a humanoid. The report Madam Vostra read to us said the missing crews the Gentleman sent were all humanlike, no tieflings, orcs, goblins, what have you. This blood was black to start with, it's not from drying out.”

 

“How do you reckon that?” Fjord asked. 

 

“It looks like Fiend blood,” Pandemonium interjected quietly, and Molly nodded grimly. “My own blood looks more like that, it's quite dark. Same with Molly.”

 

“Mine doesn't!” Jester piped up. 

 

“Well yeah, your mom's a tiefling,and as far as we know your dad wasn't a full-blooded fiend. We don't know Molly's parents exactly but my father is a full-blooded fiend, and my blood looks closer to that. Whatever's down here is probably a demon of some sort, mark my words.” 

 

Jester stuck her tongue out at him, and he returned the gesture. Fjord pulled himself up to his feet, and looked over the whole group. 

 

“At least we'll be able to try and talk to it.”

 

Mollymauk gave him a look of feigned outrage.

 

“What, you assume because we're tieflings we can all speak Infernal?!”

 

Jester gave him a blank, tired look. 

 

“But we can. It would be weird if we couldn't.” 

 

“I mean. If you want to talk about what's weird, I think its weirder that Infernal is an intrinsic language that we all know, including Molly who would have no memory of ever learning it a s a child,” Pan muttered. “But I digress: whatever is causing the people to go missing down here is a fiend, or is connected to them at the very least. We need to keep going.”

 

The group proceeded deeper into the tunnels, Caleb's lights providing the only illumination this far in. The walls had dried out, and the unpleasant humidity had seemed to die off. Eventually they came upon a junction, where the hallway branched into numerous divergent forks, and Charter drew them to a full halt. There were 4 new pathways total, and it made logical sense for them to split off along each. Charter motioned at Jester and Nott. 

 

“I'll tag along with you two. Caleb and Molly, please take the leftmost hallway. Yasha and Fjord, the one to the far right. Beau and Pan, you;ll be in the left middle, and we'll take the middle right. Everyone with that?”

 

There was a collective murmur of agreement, and everyone started off towards their assigned tunnels. 

 

“Rendezvous here in 3 hours please! Use your message stones if you run into problems!” 

 

Caleb realised very quickly that they had been paired off in such a way that there was always someone with darkvision with someone without. He at least, could also summon lights, but it would be useful to have someone there in case he needed to be without them. Molly led them down the tunnel,which slowly began to pitch downwards the further they went into it. Soon, they were far enough away from the entrance that the opening had disappeared from view, and the hallways seemed to be slowly getting warmer as they descended away from the entrance they had come in through. After some trudging, Molly was the one who broke the silence.

 

“I really enjoyed last night, Caleb.”

 

Caleb blushed, and was very glad that he was walking behind Molly so he couldn't see it. 

 

“Me too, Mollymauk.”

 

The tiefling seemed to sigh and catch his breath, gathering himself.

 

“I mean. I enjoyed spending time with you. Just us, our doing something.”

 

Caleb's pulse began to pound in his ears, and he flushed a deeper red.”

 

“I want to do it again sometime. Just... Spend some time together, me and you.”

 

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yes. Please.

 

“Caleb, after this is done and we're done with the debriefing – do you maybe wanna get some drinks or catch a movie?” 

 

He was saved from answering by Molly coming to a sudden stop in front of him and putting an arm out. He looked along the tunnel, and spotted it: from around a bend around 50 metres ahead, a faint light was coming. Caleb dropped his lights, and they were plunged into near darkness, his pupils blooming wide, hungry for the light that came from ahead. The pair crept forwards along the hallway, ears straining for any noise, when Caleb grabbed the back of Molly's coat, and called Frumpkin into existence. 

 

“Keep hold of me. I'm going to look through Frumpkin. I won't be able to see or hear. Slap me if we need to run.”

 

“Will you be able to talk?”

 

“ _Ja,_ but I won't be able to hear you.”

 

He followed the thread of thought that connected him to Frumpkin, and found the darkness now thrown into sharp relief. He padded silently down the hallway, Frumpkin's sharp ears pricked for any noise or sound coming from ahead, but there was nothing. The cat slunk along the hallway and then, ever so carefully, the cat leaned around the corner and looked, and to Caleb's relief, there was no living thing there. No sing of movement, or indeed that anything had been there in many an age. He pulled Frumpkin back, and sent the cat back into his pocket of the Feywild. He went back into his own head, and tapped Molly's arm, then led the tiefling along the hallway. At the entrance to the room, he sat on the ground and cast detect magic slowly, and used the spell to feel out if there was any magical traps in the room. After a few minutes, he was satisfied there were none, and Molly checked the room for conventional traps. Having found none, the pair looked around it: it was a cavern that had been fashioned into what almost appeared to be a normal, but richly appointed study, save for the large summoning circle carved into the floor in the centre of the room. 

 

“I'll bring the others down. Pan and Charter will want to see the circle.”

 

“Mollymauk?”

 

Molly paused in pulling out the communication stone. 

 

“Yes?”

 

“I would... Very much like it if we did go out together sometime. As friends or as.... Or as a date, if that is what you want.”

 

The lavender tiefling beamed.

 

“Of course I want that. We'll arrange it when we get home. I don't want to be wistfully longing for something when we have a whole cavalcade of bullshit still ongoing.” 

 

 

 

 

It did not take long for the others to get down to them. Pan and Charter came eagerly, both approaching the summoning circle and crouching to examine it more closely, both eagerly chattering to each other in elven in their excitement. Jester was immediately drawn, along with Nott, to a chest that Caleb and Molly had not spotted in their haste. They all hunted around the room, Caleb flicking through the books to find if there was anything interesting. A lot of it was in Infernal, but what he understood was enough to let him know which were probably useful and which were not. A few minutes later, Pan gave a low gasp, and everyone turned to look at that the half-elf and tiefling had found. He pointed at the runes that littered the side. 

 

“'Maidir leis an duine a osclaíonn an ciorcal seo - tá a fhios agat go bhfuil tú ag ceiliúradh Astaroth'.” 

 

Molly sucked a low breath in through his teeth. Beau looked at him quizzically.

 

“Nice linguistics there, buddy, but uh... What?”

 

“To the one who opens this circle – know you summon Astaroth. Astaroth is quite a powerful fiend. To summon him you'd more than likely need to sacrifice a person.”

 

Caleb felt sick to his stomach. He opened his mouth to ask more, but Pan was already at work, damaging the circle so it could not be used. 

 

“Consecrating one of these for a fiend of that level is costly. I won't let them do I again without paying a hell of a lot for it.”

 

Charter helped him with the task, and soon the circle had been altered enough that it could no longer be used to summon whoever this Astaroth was. Just as he was finishing, the group heard a roar, deep, vicious and very, very close. They all paused, Molly being the first to react by drawing a scimitar and pulling it slowly across the back of his neck, leaving a line of blood such a deep red it was almost black. The sword seemed to hum into life, a glow lighting along its edges. They gathered together and slipped along the hallway, Fjord and Pan each calling their own blades into being in their hands; Fjord's falchion, appearing with a slick of seawater that dripped from his hand as it appeared before drying to completion, Pan's own curious blade with two handles winking in as if it had always been there. 

 

Back up the hallway, in the area where the pathways divided, they heard the roar again, emerging from the passageway that had been taken by Jester and Nott. They all shared a look of knowing, before Yasha, Molly, Fjord, Pan and Charter took the lead, striding down the hallway. Soon, it opened out into a large room, and they were brought to an abrupt stop by the sight of a massive, deformed creature, glistening with slime. The giant, toad-like beast squatted over what appeared to be a dead halfling, dressed in the gear common amongst the Gentleman's underlings. Clasped in its hand was a second dead body, or, what was left of one, as it drew it up to its mouth and took a horrifically large bite that was hewn from the corpse with a sickening wet crunch. As it spotted the group, it dropped the body, and began to lumber its horrific mass towards them. 

 

Caleb was the first to react as the beast approached, pulling out his materials and hurling a massive fireball at the best, hitting it right between the eyes. The beast screamed, and Nott launched her bolt, Charter following suit with a arrow from his powerful bow. The bolts pierced the beast's hide and it roared again, picking up its pace as it ran towards them. Fjord launched off two lancing bolts of green light at it, both connecting hard. And then it was on them, and blades were out. Caleb tried his best to stay at the back, away from the worst of the combat, but he watched in terror as the beast swung past the front line, dodging between Beau and Yasha and bearing down on him, filled with fury. His heart felt like it had stopped as a mighty fist loomed above him, ready to come down hard. 

 

And then time seemed to.... flex, in a way. He became vividly aware of an arm around his waist, pulling him backwards, and when he glanced back, time seeming to run like treacle, and saw Pan- but hadn't he been up front? - and Caleb was hauled backwards and away, and the blow missed. He looked at the tiefling again, and could see the black blood trailing down from his nose, and then back at Mollymauk, who was giving his friend a look of relieved gratitude, before swinging again into the screeching monster's hide. He went back to casting, laying a Haste spell upon Molly to allow him to keep swinging his blades faster and faster. 

 

The beast managed to keep standing for an incredible amount of time, withstanding an incredible amount of punishment. It was Charter who landed the final blow, with an arrow that slammed through the beast's throat and stopped it in its tracks, causing it to drop to its knees and then, gurgling, onto its front. They all stood, catching their breaths, before Jester moved through them all, healing people as she went, before stopping at Pan and launching into what seemed like a full blown row in Infernal. Caleb raised an eyebrow quizzically at Fjord and Mollymauk.

 

“He uh, took a big risk bailing you out there. I'm sure you're glad he did, and don't get me wrong, so am I, but doing a full blown movement like that, using his blade? That hurts one hell of a lot.”

 

Fjord looked concerned, but Molly still had that look of relief on his face as he stared at Caleb. He felt his cheeks heating under the gaze, and turned his attentions to the beast to examine it, while Molly approached his friend to check him over. Caleb spotted something glittering around the beast's neck, He couldn't read the runes, but recognised the writing as being Infernal. 

 

“Molly, could you come read this and tell me what it says.”

 

“....Not really, no. Not the greatest with runes, in all honesty.”

 

Caleb blinked blankly, filing that piece of information away to be dealt with later. 

 

“Pan?”

 

The red tiefling shrugged Jester off, dragging a forearm across his face to mop up his nosebleed, and came over to him, squinting over his shoulder to read them. He had been holding his sword in his left hand, but as he read, his hand went lax, and it dropped towards the ground, disappearing before it hit, and the colour seemed to drain from his face, leaving him ashy.

 

“Pandemonium? You okay there?” Fjord had started walking over, craning to try and see what he had read. 

 

“Freastal ar thoil Pelaois.”

 

Molly swore, and Jester's hands flew to her mouth. It was Jester who spoke, so softly that you could only just hear her over the ambient noises of the tunnels. 

 

“Serve the will of Pelaois.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Gaelic as a placeholder for Infernal I guess. 
> 
> Updating sooner seeing as the heat has driven me indoors ^^ I burn super easy.
> 
>  
> 
> As always I can be found on bargests.tumblr.com ^^


	9. Nine

Three things happened. The first was that everyone began demanding answers at once, save Nott, who looked confused, Molly, who looked sad, and Charter, whose face set into what Caleb could only call grim resolve. The second, was that Molly grabbedCaleb by the shoulder and began firmly walking him away from what was going ón, leaving him confused and nervous. The third, and final thing, was that Pan unbuckled the leather gorget he wore, revealing a symbol that looked identical to the mark that he had identified as saying Pelaois, and Charter gestured for Yasha, Jester and Fjord to takehold of him. 

 

“Molly what are they doing?” Caleb's voice rose several octaves in panic and tried to pull away, worried for the tiefling who had treated him kindly and asked nóthing of him in return. 

 

“Don't let them-”

 

“Caleb, Pandemonium agreed this with everyone some time ago. It's a failsafe. That mark ón his neck could be used by his father to summon him back to the Nine Hells. He made us promise that if something like this ever happened-”

 

“He was worried this could happen?!”

 

“His father is an Archfiend, Caleb. The notion of them performing acts of great evil is something that you come to terms with . He agreed that if this happened, we would have Charter... Burn the mark off with a spell. It wll hurt, but knowing he can't be dragged to the Nine Hells is better.”

 

Caleb felt physically sick at the thought of willingly subjecting yourself to flame in the way Pan was, but had to admit, it was certainly better than the alternative. 

 

“Why now? Why not before?”

 

Mollymauk made a face.

 

“Grief. He's why.”

 

Behind them, a terrible scream rose, and Caleb flinched, the sudden grip of terror grasping at him and threatening to swallow him whole. He was aware of Mollymauk grasping at his hand and pulling him close, holding him in a tight embrace. 

 

“Caleb. It's okay. It's okay. He's okay. Come now.”

 

He pressed an incredibly light kiss to Caleb's forehead. 

 

“There's time for this later. Right now, we all need to get back and warn everyone. We need to tell Madam Vostra, and warn Expertise.”

 

Caleb nodded dully, and looked back towards where the others were. Yasha and Fjord supported a sagging Pandemonium between them, Nott bearing a torch to light the way ahead. Beau was carrying the collar from the beast, and Charter was grim, bearing what looked like a sending stone.

 

“Is that a-” Molly began, pointing at the stone in the half-elf's grasp.

 

“Yes, a sending stone. I've warned Expertise. She's having her second in command burn her brand off now.”

 

“She okay doing that alone?” Fjord asked, glancing down at his and Yasha's charge.

 

“She's tough. I know she'll be okay.”

 

Caleb took a chance to examine Pan as he drew level. On the back of his neck now was a sickeningly deep burn, which looked as if Jester had daubed it with something to soothe the pain.

 

“Can we not heal him properly?”

 

Jester shook her head. She looked worn out down to her very soul, and her big eyes were filled with tears still. 

 

“Healing him with magic will put the brand back. It has to scar to truly destroy it.”

 

“Thank you, everyone. For doing that. And warning Ex.” 

 

His voice was hoarse from screaming, and he seemed exhausted. Caleb's heart hurt looking at how upset Molly looked. 

 

“We'll get you home, buddy. Me and Caleb'll look after you, get you comfy and then we'll go to the debriefing. Everything's going to be okay.”

 

 

 

The drive back to the compound was spent in silence. Caleb sat next to Mollymauk, who was tracing nervous patterns with a talon on Caleb's leg, his own jittering with anxious energy. Pan had been placed between Yasha and Jester, whose blood ran cool thanks to her ancestry. No one was willing to speak, seemingly gathering themselves for the tough conversations to come.

 

On arrival, they took their friend up to his room, Caleb and Molly taking on the task of removing his armour and putting him in bed. Underneath, he wore only light clothing, and they decided to leave it on him rather than messing him around. Jester had them lie him on his front, and tucked special pillows that she had asked Yasha to pick up while they were busy making him comfortable. They were cooling, and would help him sleep without rolling. She applied a poultice to the back of his neck to help the burn heal and soothe the pain as best she could without forcing him into a medical bay where he ran the risk of a well meaning healer using a spell and ruining the process. Once done, they left him there, Nott agreeing to stay and use her message spell to tell Caleb or Mollymauk if she needed help or anything happened. After that, there was no more stay of execution, and they headed to the main building, to give the details to Madam Vostra.

 

 

 

The building was in chaos. Charter grabbed a passing runner, and asked him what had happened, and the man glanced over their group, face becoming panicked when he only counted two tieflings.

 

“Where's Pandemonium?”

 

“Recovering, with our friend Nott. What's going on?”

 

The man seemed to sag with relief. 

 

“Ex burned this brand on her off. Madam Vostra asked why, and she just said 'Protocol Springer' and Madam Vostra called everyone back. Problem with that is that only half of Grief's team came back.”

 

“Half?”

 

“Yeah. Only Veil, that Tabaxi druid, the human cleric and Bob, the lizardfolk came back. Said Grief seemed to go berserk, attacked and killed the rest of them before disappearing in a ring of black fire.”

 

Charter and Mollymauk both looked as if they were going to be sick.

 

“He's with dear old daddy then?” Molly asked, barely constrained fury in his voice. 

 

The runner nodded. “We believe so. Yet to be confirmed.”

 

“It's confirmed.” 

 

They all turned at this new voice, and saw that Expertise had entered behind them, a bandage wrapped around her shoulder. Charter looked relieved and pulled her into an embrace with half a sob.

 

“I'm okay, my love. Pan...?”

 

“Resting. We've burned it off.”

 

“Good.” Her voice was filled with venom. “Grief has gone running to join father and the rest of our siblings. Madam Vostra wants to see you all immediately.”

 

 

 

Madam Vostra's spacious office was a beacon of calm in the chaos of the main building. She stood to one side with her arms around a tall half orc whose shoulders were shaking with grief. Upon seeing her, Charter and Ex went over and pulled them both into a group hug, cradling the massive woman as best they could. 

 

“That's Sjara, she's the co-ordinator for Grief's group. She'll be blaming herself, and she shouldn't. She couldn't have foreseen this.”

 

Caleb looked her over. She had what looked like a fairly fresh burn on her face, but to his eyes, it didn't look like it came from normal flames. He thought of the magical fire that they had been told about before they went, but that they hadn't seen, and something began to itch at the back of his mind, knowledge that he wasn't quite able to knit together yet. The half-orc woman was led off by Ex who was both tall enough and strong enough to support her. Madam Vostra turned to them and looked over them all. 

 

“What happened?”

 

“It was a fix-up, Madam,” Charter began, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The whole thing about delvers and black fire and watery voices – we saw nothing of the sort. I should have remembered, but delvers – they're earth elementals created by the ghosts of trapped miners. I should have realised. But when we got there we explored and found a demonic summoning circle for Astaroth. We destroyed it, and something roared. We fought it and... On it was the mark of Pelaois.”

 

She frowned, her brow furrowing. 

 

“I take it you enacted Protocol Springer with Pandemonium?”

 

“Yes, Madam. He's recovering at home, Nott is watching over him and will let us know if anything happens.”

 

The elven woman nodded, and looked thoughtful. Expertise slipped back into the room quietly.

 

“All of you bar Charter and Expertise are dismissed. I need you all to be on high alert. Misters Tealeaf and Widogast, keep an eye on your friend.”

 

“Yes, Madam Vostra.”

 

They left, and Caleb made a note to go to the libraries here and in the city as soon as he could. He needed to learn all he could, as quickly as possible. 

 

 

 

 

They got back, and Nott slipped out of Pan's room to greet them. 

 

“He's asleep. I gave him some water with a straw. I... I want to go to bed.”

 

She scurried through the kitchenette and grabbed a large bottle of vodka in passing, and then scurried into her room, taking care to not slam the door. Molly crept over and looked in, his face relaxing upon seeing his friend. Caleb peeked in himself, then had to pull his eyes away after looking at the burn. It was livid against his red skin, a more intense, fresh red than his usual skin tone. 

 

“Molly, we can talk in my room, if you want?” 

 

The tiefling nodded and they slipped into Caleb's room and over to his window, dropping themselves into the cushions. Mollymauk made a face, looked out the window at the slow rain that had started to fall, excusing himself for a moment. He came back ten minutes later, draped in his Bahamut blanket and carrying two steaming mugs of herbal tea. Caleb took his with a smile, sipping it gratefully as he leaned back into his window seat. 

 

“So... About this date...”

 

Mollymauk laughed. 

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

Caleb shrugged. 

 

“I do want to go to a library tomorrow. I want to research this Astaroth. After that, I'm all yours.”

 

Molly's mouth twisted into a wicked, dirty smile.  _Oh fuck._

 

“I mean, ah-”

 

“Oh no, I like it the way you said it the first time. There is, however, a very nice restaurant in the complex I think you'll like.”

 

Caleb smiled. 

 

“I would like that.” 

 

The tiefling smiled. The pair spent a very long time curled up together, watching the rain and sipping tea. Eventually, the tiefling stretched languidly and rolled to his feet. 

 

“I should sleep. So should you. It's been a very, very long day.”

 

Caleb nodded, and walked the tiefling to his door. There, the tiefling turned back and smiled at him. 

 

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

 

Seized by a sudden moment of boldness, the human leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, his nerves singing as he did. The tiefling gasped and he pulled away, gripped by anxiety after a number of moments.

 

“Night!”

 

He shut the door and ran to his bed and buried his face in his pillows, ears hot and red.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on chapter 10 but i have up to 24 planned out. so uh, there's that. 
> 
>  
> 
> i really appreciate all your kind words. thank you. 


	10. Ten

The evening of their date came quickly and Caleb was not ready. He had pulled his entire wardrobe out hunting for clothes and still had no idea what to wear. He was pulled from his reverie by a knock on his door, and he padded over and opened it, startled to find Pandemonium stood there with a bag. The tiefling's burn was healing slowly, and the pain of it healing had his face constantly taut with pain. He pressed the bag into Caleb's hands and stalked away, with a muttered 'you're welcome', leaving Caleb standing their quizzically. He pulled back into his room, shutting the door behind him. He emptied the bag onto his bed and had to double take. Inside was a suit of a bright electric indigo blue, so bright it almost felt like it was searing his eyes. Paired with it was a pressed white linen shirt and a tie of a brilliant orange, matching the small pocket square tucked in the breast pocket. He was swallowed by the urge to run after the tiefling and thank him. He heard a second knock at the door and when he opened it, there was a pair of shoes and a note. Picking it up he read the note first.

 

_The suit is a gift from Jester. The shoes are mine and I will want them back after._

  * _P_




 

He was so glad that these people were the ones he was spending time with. Feeling much more relaxed about preparing for the evening (although perhaps not for the date itself), he slipped over to the bathroom and locked the door behind him, opening the small washbag he had now assembled for himself. He had been paid quite handsomely for the task they had performed, and although a large chunk of it had gone on purchasing some much needed soaps and shampoo, and at Jester and Mollymauk's insistence, moisturiser and aftershave. Jester had helped him pick out scents he found familiar and comforting: black pepper oil and patchouli shower gel, vanilla and coffee shampoo and conditioner, aloe vera moisturiser and a citrusy aftershave. He cleaned himself up as best he could, shaving his beard. He darted back across into his room, flushing at Saelhil's whoop from the couch where he sat with Pan draped across him like a rug. He scampered into his room and began dressing himself in the suit, pulling on clean boxers and then the shirt. He was soon ready, and nervously applied the aftershave. He looked ready but didn't feel it.

 

He had hunted through several libraries the day before, desperately hoping to find something on Astaroth, but had turned up nothing. He had eventually turned to the books of those he was sharing an apartment with, Ex and Pan fishing out several old tomes that they had, each written in Infernal. He had needed to cast comprehend languages to make any headway with them, One looked to be incredibly promising, the Compendium Asmodeum, a large book written entirely in Infernal that detailed the denizens of the Nine Hells. Worryingly, the number of pages would fluctuate as demons were created and destroyed, but over the last two days it had been slowly increasing in length. He still had time to kill before he and Molly agreed meeting time, and he reopened the book, turning to the ninth and longest chapter: the one about Asmodeus' plane in the Nine Hells. Unbidden, he opened to a page at random – and there he was. He traced the runes that made up his name: _Astaroth_. He read the words hurriedly, looking over the runes. Astaroth was described here as a Cambion, favoured of Pelaois, beloved son of Asmodeus, the Bringer of Black Fire.

 

There went the hairs on the back of his neck again. Black fire. The same flames described within the tunnels. There was definitely something bigger in play, something to truly be frightened of. He saw the flames of his home again. Black flames, black smoke, frightened voices. His fault. He needed to tell someone, but he dare not tell Mollymauk. Nott knew a little, but not all of it. Perhaps his other tiefling housemate would understand. From what Molly had said, he also had a lot of family related trauma, and besides – he needn't tell the whole truth.

 

He was disturbed from his thoughts by a knock at the door and opened it to find Mollymauk, looking sublime in a suit jacket that appeared to have the same pattern as his garish coat, black suit trousers and a neat black bowtie in the collar of his white shirt. He looked magnificent, and as equally taken with Caleb as Caleb was with him.

 

“Caleb... You look good enough to eat, darlin'.”

 

Caleb blushed, and that wicked smile crawled over Mollymauk's face.

 

“Fuck off and take him to dinner then!” Saelhil called from the lounge, where he was fiddling with the TV, trying to choose a movie. Pan was by the window on his phone.

 

“I plan to! You two have plans?”

 

“Eat fifty thousand garlic bread sticks from Zanu's, watch Cirilla, Queen of the Desert and have very, very careful sex.”

 

“Not on the couch,” Caleb sighed. “Please.”

 

Pan had to bite a knuckle to hold back a laugh, but Saelhil laughed loudly.

 

“You got it, Wiz kid. Same goes to you two.”  
  


Caleb blushed further, but was saved by Mollymauk grabbing his wrist and leading him out, eagerly babbling about their reservation.

 

 

 

 

The Golden Hind was a little restaurant in the countryside on the edge of the compound, on the road towards the city. It had clearly started as a little countryside pub back in the day, but it had been added to and expanded on over the centuries to create the magnificent, if mish-mashed building before them now. Molly led them inside and was greeted by a tall, brightly coloured Aarakocra who shook his hand and then led them to a secluded, private booth towards the back of the building. The booth was illuminated by candles, and Molly had clearly called ahead to have a bottle of wine ready at the table for them. They both slipped into the booth, shuffling around until they were close but not touching.

 

“Mollymauk, this place is-”

 

“Spectacular, right?

 

Caleb swallowed.

 

“I don't deserve any-”

 

“Yes, you do. This and more. No matter your past, Caleb, I like you, and I think you deserve to be happy. You deserve to enjoy the small things in life. Be it a meal in a nice restaurant or a new book or some new clothes – anything. You deserve happiness.”

 

The redhead blushed and turned his eyes back to the menu, pretending to peruse it as if he hadn't memorised it the second he had sat down. A waiter came over and poured them each a glass of wine, and Mollymauk ordered them an antipasti platter of olives, cured meats, crackers, grapes and cheese to get started, something that would allow them to talk while they decided what they wanted.

 

“How was your trip to the library, Caleb? Anything of note?”

 

Caleb nodded, and took a sip of the red wine to wet his lips.

 

“Ja. The books on Demonology there were not really of help, but I did find a few fascinating arcane tomes that I'm going back to look at in more detail. Pan and Ex, however, loaned me a book of theirs, a who's who of the Nine Hells, if you will.”

 

“Oh?”

 

They leaned back to allow the waiter to place the platter between them, and as soon as it was down, Mollymauk eagerly grabbed a few pieces of the cut ham and popped them in his mouth with a happy whimper that made Caleb's brain go fuzzy for a moment.

 

“Well... Ja, um. Astaroth is a Cambion, the son of Asmodeus and an elven woman, who died in childbirth, but from what I can gather, he was taken in by Pelaois many, many centuries ago and given a place of favour in his court. He has the ability to summon fiend fire, a black flame that cannot be put out, even in rain or under water. It's called Drowner's fire, sometimes, because it can sound like a drowning person in the right conditions.”

 

Molly nodded suddenly, crimson eyes widening.

 

“Like in the sewers?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

Molly leaned over the table, chewing a piece of brie thoughtfully. He swallowed, then smiled his wicked smile at Caleb.

 

“I love how clever you are. I could listen to you explain things for hours.”

 

Caleb blushed a deep, deep red but was saved by the arrival of the waiter to take the orders for their mains. He chose a dish of veal in a wine sauce with potatoes, and Molly chose a pasta dish. They soon polished off the antipasti board and it was taken away, replaced by their meals when they were ready a few minutes later. The food looked amazing, but what started Caleb the most was the person serving it, a familiar face from the underground. The two shared a nod, and nothing was said, but Molly looked at him conspiratorially.

 

“A friend?”

 

“An acquaintance, I guess? He sells fake artefacts to tourists, makes them in the underground. I've enchanted stuff for him before, navigation assisting spells to help tourists find their way around the city.”

 

“That's nice of him.”

 

“I guess it is.”

 

He took a bite of the veal, and almost melted. It was beautifully tender and the sauce was divine. The two of them lapsed into an easy silence as they ate, enjoying the food too much to talk more. After their plates were taken, Mollymauk slipped closer, around the side of the table. Caleb sighed happily.

 

“I couldn't possibly eat anything else.”

 

Mollymauk pouted.

 

“Dessert?”

 

Caleb though about it.

 

“Come on, it is a known _fact_ that you always have room for dessert no matter what. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar!”

 

That brought a smile to his lips, and cautiously, he reached out, taking Mollymauk's hand in his. It was warm, and the warmth made him smile. What made him happier was Mollymauk's delighted purr as he squeezed Caleb's hand.

 

“This is nice,” The tiefling purred. “I'm glad you said you'd come along.”

 

“So am I,” the human replied, smiling. “I... I am not good at these things, Mollymauk, but in the time we have spent together I have really come to enjoy your company. A great deal, in fact.”

 

The tiefling smiled and lay his head against Caleb's shoulder, making his heart skip a beat. The waiter reappeared and proffered the dessert menu, which Claeb took begrudgingly, ignoring Mollymauk's muttered 'I told you so'. Everything sounded amazing, but what caught his eye was a familiar treat from home. Sachertorte. He waved the waiter over and ordered a single slice, but with two spoons. They did not have to wait long before he reappeared with the slice of rich chocolate cake, and set it before them. Molly eyed it appreciatively.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Sachertorte. It's a rich, Zemnian chocolate cake with ganache and apricots. Here.”

 

He cut and speared a piece and offered it to Mollymauk, who leaned over and ate it from Caleb's fork, locking eyes with him as he did. His cock gave an interested twitch and he filed that mental image away for later. They finished the desserts and Molly paid the bill while Caleb nipped to the bathroom. They left and the journey home was tense, but in a good way. It was like the calm before a summer storm that you'd been waiting for, when the rain was desperately needed. Molly had kept his arm around Caleb the whole time. They arrived back at the apartment, and noticed that it was a worrying hive of activity. They shared a glance, then crept up to the apartment. It was in a state of disarray, with Nott the only person home, wringing her hands, surrounded by abandoned food.

 

“Nott? What's going on?”

 

The Goblin looked panicked.

 

“We're under attack. They've not been able to send an alert, the communication tower was hit and they only managed to get half the messages out. Grief has come. He's leading a horde of demons. Pan and Saelhil have already left.”

 

Mollymauk blanched.

 

“He isn't fully healed.”

 

Nott grimaced.

 

“Grief has called him and Expertise out specifically. He's come here after you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual I can be found over at bargests.tumblr.com
> 
> Sorry it's a bit late, I've been playing a lot of The Witcher 3 ^^


	11. Eleven

Once outside, dressed in their armour, the sounds of combat quickly became overwhelming. From across the compoud he could see flames leaping into the air, and Caleb swallowed nervously. He needed to be strong. Ahead there was a crash, and he threw his hands up to defend himself. Ahead a horde of demons appeared, attacking a single figure wrapped in veils. Caleb quickly launched off a few cantrips, and the man unleashed a gout of what looked like acid over the demons, who were quickly finished with a bolt from Nott. Molly got up close and put his blades to work, finishing off the last few demons. One of them knocked the figure in veils to the floor, and Molly interceded, slashing the demon with his blade as it raised a claw, the figure making a gesture that caused the creature to fold in pain, allowing Mollymauk to finish it off. The tiefling then pulled the figure in robes to his feet as Caleb and Nott drew level.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Been better,” the figure replied. “As usual you have a marvellous knack for choosing the perfect time to show up, Mister Tealeaf.”

 

Molly grinned.

 

“Care to tag along with us three? More ranged fighters sounds marvellous.”

 

The figure cocked its head, considering. “Sure. Why not.” Their voice was dry, brusque.”

 

“Caleb, this is Lord Sylvanus Petrovich, he's a local noble and a diplomat for the guild. He's also a phenomenal Sorcerer.”

 

“I'd say I'm blushing, but that would be pointless as I tend not to show my face. Charmed, I'm sure.”

 

“Ah, greetings, my Lord.”

 

“Oh no. Don't call me that. Sylvanus will do just fine.”

 

He extended a hand from within the veils, and Caleb was able to examine his hand more closely. The skin was a mottled grey, too pale to be a drow, and the fingers long and delicate. The skin was interspersed with black scales, small, delicate things with edges that felt like cold iron when Caleb took the proferred hand to shake it.

 

“Caleb Widogast. And this is Nott.”

 

He shook Nott's hands, and looked about the demons that surrounded them.

 

“We had better get to the front line. I saw your friends headed there before. Your hexblade friends have made a good showing, from what I hear. Especially the Half-Orc, when paired with that tiefling girl. She's been helping the wounded back to their feet and knocking in some fiendish teeth. She keeps yelling at them in Infernal, too. The most nonsensical insults, to the point that you can tell the Fiends are thinking 'Wait, what?'.”

 

Molly laughed, and herded the group down the street, closer to the fighting. Every so often, they would have to stop, and fight off some more attackers, slowly accumulating more and more allies as they went. There was another Wizard, Quarrion, a haughty high-elf who had raised two of the enemy tiefling fighters as undead and sent them right back at the demon hordes, a Barbarian who insisted on being called “Steak”, and his twin brother, Hans, who Quarrion derisively referred to as Chips, Hex, an enormous tiefling Paladin, and Dompierre, a rogue, who was just as handy with a blade as Mollymauk. Between them they slaughtered their way to the front, felling anything that opposed them, until eventually they came upon Yasha and Beau, who fought back to back, and the two pointed out Fjord, Jester and Pan, who were all locked in battle.

 

They went to join in when the hairs on the back of Caleb's neck began to stand up and he turned, just it time to avoid a red hot arrow that flew past his head. Before him stood a tiefling wreathed in flame wielding a bow, who screeched at him in Infernal.

 

“Beidh na fíocháin sruthán go léir! Ardóidh Astaroth! Tabharfaidh Pelaois an ríchathaoir!”

 

Hex came forward and made a vicious gesture, and the flames abated enough for Caleb got a good look at the woman. She looked similar to the siblings, with bone structure reminiscent of Expertise in particular. But it was like looking at a painting made by a police sketch artist after someone had described Expertise. He guessed she was a relative of the family, but a cousin perhaps. Hex swarmed at her, shouting in Infernal of his own.

 

“Roghnaigh tú an taobh mícheart, Fola!”

 

They began to fight, the woman unleashing furious gouts of flame, but Hex was unconcerned, the fire licking at him but leaving him unharmed, and quickly, he had the upper hand.

 

“Slán, sí-diabhal!”

 

“Beidh tú ag fulaingt! Beidh an Nonagon bás ar an altóir! An Nona- "

 

Hex's eyes narrowed as he struck her down with a vicious blow, cutting her off midstream.

 

“Labhraíonn tú an iomarca.” He flicked his greatsword, causing the blood to fly off the end. “Form up!”

 

Caleb formed a back line of fighters, picking off anything big between them with launched spells and bolts, stood between Quarrion and Nott, with Sylvanus on the other side of Nott. Steak and Hans defended Jester as she worked to help people back up, and Fjord, Beau, Yasha, Dompierre, and Hex helped control the battlefield. Molly and Pan, however, had spotted the bigger fish that they were there to fry. Grief had appeared, and had made a beeline for Molly, the Lavender tiefling eagerly firing up his blades to a dull glow. Grief was focused entirely on getting to Mollymauk, clambering over the bodies of his own soldiers with complete disregard, until the massive blade he wielded was able to lock swords with the other tiefling, the two immediately locked in violent conflict. Caleb had to rip his eyes away, and concentrate on attacking the other enemies as they approached, making sure nothing else could join the fight.

 

The battle felt like it had raged for hours when he chanced another glance at Mollymauk, and his heart soared when he saw that the bloodhunter had the paladin on the back-foot. And then it happened all too suddenly. Grief seemed to grow tired of the fight, and Caleb realised all too late that he had been toying with Molly as the big, red tiefling knocked his blades aside and slashed across Molly's chest, knocking him straight the ground, where he lay, convulsing.

 

“No!” The scream was torn from his throat, and he tried to run to Molly, only to be stopped by Yasha, who held him fast, tears in her eyes.

 

“Caleb, he'll kill you!”

 

“I won't let him kill Molly!”

 

“And he wouldn't want you to kill yourself trying!”

 

Grief was grinning, and he stepped forwards, raising the blade straight up ready to plunge the point down and land the killing blow. As he brought the blade down, the world seemed to flicker, and Molly was gone, moved 5 feet away, Pandemonium stood over him. The curious, two handled blade in hand.

 

“Ah, Pandemonium. Come for your freak friend?”

 

“Brother.” The word was spat, a fury that seemed to span decades behind it. He then took a handle of his blade in each hand and pulled – and the two handles pulled away, the curious single sword splitting into two long, slender and wickedly sharp blades. A single stream of black blood was running from his nose as he did so, and Grief's eyes narrowed as he drew his blade back into a ready stance.

 

What happened next was almost too fast for Caleb's eyes to follow as Pan sprung forwards, forcing his older brother back with a flurry of vicious blows that actually made the older tiefling looked startled. As the two came away, Caleb acted, pulling his licorice root from his pocket, focusing on Pan as he did so. He grinned as the spell took effect and the tiefling began to move even faster, feeling gratified at the look of outright fear that was beginning to spread across Grief's face.

 

Soon, the Paladin had been forced back and it seemed all he could do just to keep himself from being stabbed or slashed, and that was when it happened – Pan, a red blur as he moved, dipped low, baiting Grief into taking a slash which missed by a mile as he swung his left hand up, the blade curving along Grief's wrist, drawing black blood and causing the tiefling to drop his blade. Pan slashed again, the movement almost like he was trying to hug his brother's legs and Beau crowed as the strike hit home, forcing Grief to his knees.

 

“Hamstrung, mother fucker!”

 

Grief sat there, panicked, scrabbling, as Jester darted forwards with Hex, the Paladin and the cleric healing Mollymauk as they pulled him away. Pan settled his blades on his brother's shoulders, crossed over in a scissor position, and he grinned wickedly. Grief glowered up at him.

 

“Fuck yo-”

 

And he vanished in a wisp of black smoke. Pan's blades met and drew no blood, and the tiefling gave a roar of frustration. Hex pulled Molly up and lifted him bodily into his arms. He was healed, but looked exhausted, and huddled into the Paladin's huge arms with hollow eyes. Demons were beginning to puff off in wisps of smoke, and the bodies began to burn with black fire. Caleb leaned over, hands on knees and brought his dinner back up as the stench of burning flesh hit him. Then he wiped his mouth off and followed the others as they made the walk over to the main building of the compound.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I've been..... *non commital noise*. 
> 
> As usual I can be found at bargests.tumblr.com. Even though I'm awful at replying to comments but I really appreciate all your kind words.


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